Arianna Selenasdaughter
by callahan37
Summary: Arianna was eight years old when she had her first premonition. When she sees that her brother, Eragon's life is in danger, she sets out to do everything in her power to protect him.
1. Chapter 1: Arianna

Sitting across the table from Brom, I thought of the first time I'd come to see him. It was after my terrible "nightmare" when I was eight years old. That was eight years ago. I knew a lot more now then I did then. My nightmare was actually a premonition, and it seemed that no matter what path I decided I was going to choose, I ended up in the same place: the King's court. I was no guest, however. I was a prisoner. But this was not part of the nightmare. The nightmare was of black-hooded creatures and burning barns. I saw my Uncle tortured, my twin hunting them with Brom, and me getting captured.

I told no one the details of the nightmare – not even Brom. _My father_. How strange that I knew, when Eragon did not. I wasn't going to tell him either. It was better that he didn't know. Besides, I'd figured it out by myself. He could do the same if he put his mind to it.

"Arianna, focus." Brom told me sternly.

I'd been studying with Brom since having my first premonition. I knew I was going to need to know the ancient language in order to protect Eragon. I wasn't sure yet why he needed to be protected, only that the king was going to be looking for him, and he would do anything to get the information. I wasn't going to be his tool. I'd rather die than betray my brother.

I looked down at the papers in front of me continued studying. My uncle, Garrow, had ceased pestering me with pointless questions as to why I spent so much time with Brom a long time ago. As long as I got my chores done, I was allowed to do whatever I wanted. Also, Eragon was off hunting, so it was like a free pass to Brom's. Towards the end of our makeshift lessons, I also got to create a fairths. The first one I ever made was of Brom. It came out kind of funny looking, but at least it was a fair resemblance. The most noticeable aspect of it was his nose. I was glad I'd inherited most of my mother's features. No offense to Brom – I loved him, and was glad I was his daughter, but my vain side was proud of my beauty. For today, my fairth was of Brom. I fixed the image of Brom in my mind, and recited, "Let that which I see in my mind's eye be replicated on the surface of this tablet," in the ancient language. It came out perfectly. Much better than the first time I'd tried so many years ago. Smiling to myself, I handed it to Brom, who smiled slightly before handing it back.

"It's growing late, Arianna. You should return home now. Garrow will be getting worried. After all, Eragon's still in the Spine, so he's probably worried enough as it is."

I exhaled dejectedly, and he smiled again.

"Until next time, my daughter."

It was always weird, knowing that Brom was my father but not being able to properly acknowledge the fact. It just seemed wrong. I hugged Brom before I headed off on my long walk to the farm. I never took my fairths with me, but I had some blank ones at home for when I wanted to make ones of Garrow, Roran, or Eragon. As fate would have it, I stumbled upon Eragon on my way home. He was holding a stone in his hand, and cursing Sloan to the fiery pits of hell. Apparently, he wouldn't accept it as trade for some meat because it came from the Spine. Horst bought him some in exchange for Eragon's work come springtime. Even so, I knew our uncle wouldn't be pleased that Horst bought meat for us. He hated charity. People in Carvahall were always way too willing to give us things. It irritated Garrow more than anything else. The stone Eragon held was large and polished. Very pretty. I was sure Garrow would have some idea of what to do with it. The traders were due to come to town soon. He'd try to get rid of it then.

When we reached the house, Eragon knocked on the door, announced himself, and we were let into the house. Eragon sat down at the table across from Garrow, and I kissed him on the cheek and said goodnight. I was weary from my studies, and wished to get up early the next morning to tackle my chores so that I could get back to town. Once winter came, I knew I wouldn't have as many chances to go to town because of the weather conditions. I blew out my candle, and turned on my side. It didn't take long for sleep to take me, and I gladly succumbed to the darkness that was so willing to take me.


	2. Chapter 2: Mystery

A month or two had gone by, and for the most part I'd managed to make it into Carvahall everyday for my lessons with Brom. When I couldn't because of the snow, I practiced what I knew in my room. Eragon had been acting strangely, though. We all noticed, and we all questioned him about it. He just shrugged it off, as if he suddenly had a profound love for his chores and the outdoors. Something was amiss, but I couldn't figure out what it was, and I didn't want to spend all my free time musing about it, so I let it dissipate from my mind.

When Roran needed to go into Carvahall to get his chisel fixed, Eragon eagerly volunteered to go with him. That wasn't uncommon though. Everywhere our older cousin went, so too did Eragon. They were as close as brothers. Of course, we'd spent years as siblings. Eragon had never noticed the difference, but I remembered times when I'd doubted that they were my real parents.

What was strange about this occasion, however, was that Eragon sought out Brom. In fact, we walked there together. I'm sure I must've looked at him half a dozen times with the same incredulous look when I realized he was going with me, but if he noticed, he didn't say anything. He seemed absorbed in his own thoughts somehow. As Eragon raised his hand to know, Brom surprised us from behind. Eragon explained that he wanted to get information, so Brom invited him in.

While he bumbled around in the dark to try and find a light (an act for Eragon, no doubt), I stood beside my brother and tried to figure out what he could possibly be hiding. He didn't look like any fugitive I'd ever seen, but then I had nothing to compare him to because I'd never seen one. Whatever it was, he had no intention of sharing it with the rest of us. If he had, he would've told us already.

Brom put tea on for us, which was new for Eragon, and routine for me, and Eragon told him he wanted to know more about the Dragons and the Dragon Riders. This was news to me. I didn't realize that he'd taken such a keen interest after hearing Brom's "story" when the traders were in town. Garrow hadn't been able to sell it, and I wasn't sure what Eragon did with it after that, but it was of little concern to me. So Brom began to tell him what he knew, with Eragon interrupting often to ask questions about things that weren't relevant to his original question.

"Do you want your original questions answered or not? They won't be if you want to explore every obscure piece of knowledge." Brom said with a scowl on his face. It made me smile. As I sat, listening to information I already knew, I looked at my brother and my father, searching for comparisons. There weren't any obvious ones, unless you counted their never-ending curiosity. What caught my attention, and Brom's, was when Eragon said that a trader had been talking about Dragons. That was hard to imagine. I wasn't paying too much attention, but I caught the end of Brom saying, "He was wrong. It isn't in any of the stories, and I know them all. Did he say anything else?"

I wondered what Eragon had said to elicit such a flat response from Brom. Then, after that, Eragon was asking about Dragon names. Where did that come from? He had no reason that I knew of to need to remember a certain dragon name. I was sure now he was hiding something big. Just how big remained to be seen. I exchanged a quick glance with Brom, and I knew that he was on to it too.


	3. Chapter 3: Premonition

That night, at dinner, Roran told Garrow of his plans to work for Dempton, the miller that had been at Horst's when Roran went to get his chisel fixed. While Roran explained why he wanted to go to work for him (he wanted to marry Katrina), I watched my brother. Eragon seemed tense. I knew he didn't want Roran to leave, but that was no reason to keep Roran from doing what he needed to do to ask for Katrina's hand in marriage. Katrina and I had been friends since we were children, and the prospect of her joining the family made me excited.

When Garrow asked Eragon if he'd known, he shrugged and said, "Not until today...It's madness." Garrow told him that it was just life's natural way of life.

As the days passed, Eragon seemed to avoid everyone. He spent more time outside as usual. I hadn't forgot about all of his questions about Dragons, but I didn't dare follow him. Not yet. The first thing I did was sneak into his room and see if I could find his rock. The more I'd thought about it, the more it seemed that it was too polished, and far too pretty looking to simply be a rock. And then I remembered what the trader had said about it – that it was _hollow_. When I didn't find it in his room, I was fairly sure that my suspicions were correct. The only way to find out though, was by seeing the evidence with my own eyes. So the next time Eragon went outside, I waited a few minutes and went after him. He looked behind him more than once, to make sure that he wasn't being followed, but I kept out of his line of vision. He'd picked a good hiding spot. I'd never known it was there. And there was his dragon, the same color as the "rock" had been. When I saw it, everything clicked into place. My vision came crashing down on me with clarity this time.

_I watched from a distance as Eragon and his dragon flew down to land upon the remains of the farm. It looked as though it had been blown apart. Eragon searched frantically for Garrow... "Saphira! I need you!" he yelled frantically. _

The vision jumped forward to Garrow's death, and to Eragon and Brom's leaving to chase after the Ra'zac, the monsters that had always starred in my nightmares. However, I saw nothing of me being in the King's presence. What I had learned, however, was that the monsters were coming, and Eragon had to be protected at all costs. Thinking of Eragon, I looked up and saw him sitting near Saphira, as I'd learned her name was, venting about everything that was going on. I decided to wait for Eragon left, and then approach the dragon. I'd try and reach out with my mind first though, so as to keep from startling her too much. After a few hours of waiting, I was rewarded. Once Eragon was gone, I tentatively reached out with my conscience until it brushed against the dragon's. It was the strangest sensation I'd ever experienced.

_Saphira?_ I asked hesitantly.

The dragon's head swiveled around quickly, and I saw one of it's large sapphire eyes staring at me. I stepped forward slowly. I felt like I should have my hands up, but I refrained.

_I am Arianna. Eragon's sister._

_I know who you are_. That was good. Hopefully she wouldn't eat me.

_I've had a premonition. It's about Eragon. Strangers are coming to Carvahall, and they want to harm him. When the time comes, can you keep him out of harm's way?_

Saphira snorted, peering at me again with her large eye. _Yes._

_Thank you_. I suddenly felt like I should do something respectful, but I didn't want to look foolish, and besides, it was getting late. They were probably wondering where I was. As I walked away from the dragon, I had the feeling that would be the last time I saw her. When the strangers came, I would remain with Garrow. I would not abandon him to them.


	4. Chapter 4: The Ra'zac

I didn't go back to Carvahall after talking with the dragon. I didn't want to be around Brom. He could always seem to tell what I was up too. He hadn't ever broken into my mind though – I had wards all around it to keep people out. He just knew me too well, and that would have given me away.

Eragon left with Roran when he left to meet Dempton, and I stayed behind with Garrow. Nothing would happen to Eragon if he went into Carvahall today. While Garrow sat down heavily at the table, probably wishing that he'd told Roran no, he couldn't go, I cleaned up the table and washed the dishes. It was just busy work to me. I couldn't afford to be idle today. After I did the dishes, I moved on to something else. If I stopped, I was sure that I would have a break down. I caught a brief glance of Eragon before he darted off into the woods. _Good_, I thought. Saphira would be sure to whisk him away to somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from here. The Ra'zac didn't come that night. Garrow was worried about Eragon. I told him there must've been a good reason why he hadn't come home. I felt horrible. But I couldn't tell him. People in Carvahall didn't believe in magic. They'd probably have killed me if they'd known I had premonitions. Eventually, Garrow went to sleep. I couldn't have slept even if I'd wanted to. A horrible monster like me didn't deserve to sleep.

They came a little after dawn. A quick rapping at the door. Garrow was at the table, eating breakfast. I wasn't hungry. I got up to answer the door, pretending that I expected it to be Eragon. After all, that's who Garrow was expecting it to be.

I opened the door quickly, and beheld the horrific sight of the Ra'zac. Garbed all in black, and slightly hunched, their presence instilled a quavering fear I'd never experienced before.

"Yes?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from trembling.

"Is Eragon here?" One of them asked in a horrible voice. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Every fiber in me was screaming at me to run, but I couldn't. All I could do was answer the question.

"No, I'm afraid he's out at the moment."

Behind me, I could imagine a look of puzzlement, perhaps even bewilderment, on Garrow's old face. How it pained me to stand there and be the slightest bit hospitable to them!

"A pity," the other said, in an equally disturbing voice.

"Well, I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful. Good day to you," I added as I began to shut the door. Before it could latch so that I could lock it, the first stuck his arm in the way and forced it open. I heard a chair scraping against the floor. Garrow was getting up.

"I told you that he's not here. What-"

"Where's the stone?" the second one asked.

Garrow came to stand by me. "Whatever you're looking for, it's not here," he told them. "Now get out of my house."

Without warning, one of them swung out and punched Garrow in the face. Crying out, I ran to aid him, but was restrained by the other one.

"Uncle!" I cried uselessly. Before he could recover, it was upon him, restraining him. They asked us about the stone. Garrow told him what he knew of it, but that wasn't enough. They wanted answers that he didn't have. I knew, but I couldn't tell them without compromising Eragon's safety. At one point, they used a clawed finger to draw a line down his cheekbone. Their favorite method of torture was a liquid that they dropped on him. It burned away the flesh. He screamed in agony, but I could do nothing. Once they were finished with him, they turned to me, using the same method of torture, only on a lesser scale. I wished they'd do what they did to him to me. I deserved it.

"I don't know anything," I cried. The pain was horrible to bear. Tears flew freely down my cheeks. Finally, after nearly an hour, they became frustrated and left. Their method of leaving, however, involved torching the house via an explosion. I remembered trying to protect Garrow. Then everything turned black, and I knew no more.


	5. Chapter 5: Captured

_I stood, bound before the king, with the Ra'zac on either side of me. _

_"Tell me about Eragon and the stone," Galbatorix commanded of me._

_"No." I heard the word come out strong and forceful, despite the brewing fear inside me. He glared at me, then motioned a guard forward._

_"Take her to the dungeons. No food or water. She'll break soon enough."_

My eyes fluttered open. My entire body ached, and for the first time I noticed that I was in a room. Across from me, Katrina sat near a bed. Then I noticed that there was a person on the bed. _Garrow_. I sat up quickly then, gasping as a wave of pain shot through me. Katrina looked up.

"You should lie down," she told me, concern radiating from her in waves. I couldn't though. My concern for Garrow's welfare was overwhelming. Pulling myself out of bed, I pretty much crawled over to where Garrow lied. He was barely alive. His skin was gray, and a fever gripped him in its icy claws. A small part of my brain came to the realization that this was Horst's house. Elaine came upstairs then, heavily pregnant. I wondered how she made it. She made me leave Garrow to go downstairs and eat some food. When I told her that I wasn't hungry, she made me eat anyway. I didn't argue.

Gertrude stopped by later in the afternoon. She said I'd been out for a day. Eragon was still unconscious. Horst told me that Eragon had dragged Garrow most of the way to Carvahall, but had pulled me out of the wreckage. He and his sons were the ones to return to the farm to get me. I didn't think I'd ever seen Horst so angry before.

"What did they want, Arianna?" he asked me. What I wouldn't give to tell someone! Then I realized that I could. I could tell Brom. I doubted that Elaine and Horst would let me leave the house though. I didn't want to leave anyway. Not with Garrow in such horrible condition.

"I don't know," I lied. Again. I was getting too good at the lying game. And I would have to keep lying. It was the only way to ensure Eragon's survival. That was a noble cause, wasn't it? Lying to keep my brother safe? It's a lesser evil than some of the things others might have done. Besides, Eragon had never done anything wrong. It wasn't wrong that he found Saphira's egg, and that she chose to hatch for him. He had never asked for any of this to happen. He deserved to have a chance. Brom would give him that chance, I was sure.

I didn't remember falling asleep. Someone must've carried me back to lie across from Garrow. When I woke up for the second time that day, I was alone. Except for Garrow, of course. I could hear muffled whispers from down the hall, so they hadn't gone far. It was far enough though. The Ra'zac entered through the window, carrying a knife, heading towards Garrow. My bed was concealed in a dark corner, but I doubt that I was hidden to their senses. At that moment, I didn't care what happened to me. They'd come back to finish off Garrow, and I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't be positive that Garrow would live, but I was going to give him a fighting chance. I wouldn't allow him to be slaughtered by _them_.

I jumped up, and uttered an incantation in the ancient language that sent the Ra'zac back a few steps – so that I could get in-between them and Garrow. Between the knife and Garrow. At the same time, I screamed, "No!" Feet began thudding down the hallway, towards the bedroom. They were too late. I heard the knife enter my back before I felt it. I'd never felt such pain. It beat out that flesh eating substance they poured on me to try and get me to talk. I don't remember screaming. The pain of it caused me to become limp, and I started falling. The door flew open. I saw Horst, a look of horror on his face.

One of the Ra'zac grabbed me, and they fled the room. I faded in and out of consciousness. I became very aware when they pulled the knife out of my back. A scream passed through my lips. I hadn't known I could scream like that. I sounded like a terrified, wounded animal. I didn't see the farm when they tore past it at an incredible speed, but I smelled it. As they carried me away from everything I'd ever known, and to a place I didn't want to ever know, I thought of Eragon, and then of Brom. Looks like I wouldn't be telling him everything I knew after all.


	6. Chapter 6: Arrival

The Ra'zac had patched up my wound as best they could. Not out of any kind of compassion – it went against everything in their nature. Seriously. They eat people. I wouldn't do their master any good if I was dead though, would I? As we traveled, my back began to slowly heal. And as it healed, I became a little bit stronger. I didn't know where they thought they needed to get to, but I thought it was a bit of a hassle traveling without horses. They found it extremely irritating that I couldn't keep up with them. They switched off and on carrying me.

When they went to sleep during the day, they tied me up to the nearest tree, so that I couldn't escape. I slept at night when they carried me. After what seemed like weeks of traveling like that, they came upon a clearing near the Ninor River. When I saw two giant dragon-looking beasts descending, I struggled to get away. The silver flask that was on the one's shoulder that I was struggling with fell to the ground. It didn't bother picking up, but handed me off to the other one while he climbed up and sat. Then I was tossed up like a bag of flour. No matter how much I struggled, I couldn't get down. And I didn't want to after we were in the air. I wasn't suicidal after all.

I didn't pay attention to much until they began to land. We'd arrived in Urû'baen. The Ra'zac dismounted, then lugged me down. We walked through the king's courts, and curious onlookers, mostly guards, peered out at us. I imagined that the Ra'zac were frequent visitors to the capital, so I guess it was just me that was receiving the curious stares. One of the two guards near the door shouted up at the guards above them, and the huge double doors opened up. I was ushered through.

At the end of the room, sitting on a huge throne, was Galbatorix. My mental images hadn't prepared me well enough. I began to shake, but the Ra'zac took no notice and continued to push me forward. When we reached him, the Ra'zac bowed. "Master," they cooed in their hissing voice. I did not bow. I stood and glared at him. My wrists were bound. Shame, I would've loved to punch him for all the injustices he's committed. He turned his attention to me, not returning the Ra'zac's words in kind.

"Tell me about Eragon and the stone," he commanded of me.

I continued to glare at him. "No." The word came out strong and forceful, despite the shakiness I felt in my legs.

He glared back at me, and motioned one of his guards forward.

"Take her to the dungeons. No food or water. She'll break soon enough."

The guard grabbed me roughly by the arm and took me to the dungeons, pushing me roughly inside. I looked at the gray stone prison I was going to become very acquainted with and sighed. Thinking of Eragon gave me strength. _I will not break_, I told myself. Even if I didn't have Eragon to protect, I'd have told myself the same thing. What better way to spite Galbatorix than by keeping my knowledge from him?


	7. Chapter 7: Walls

When I woke up, my body ached all over. The stone "bed" that jutted out of the wall of stone was not comfortable at all. I would've been less achy if I'd slept standing up. Unfortunately, I hadn't mastered that skill, which came so easily to the horses that we'd used to keep in the barn. My favorite had been a chestnut mare, Biscuit. An odd name, I was aware, but a name nonetheless. I hadn't ever been very creative in the names department anyway.

The cell door opened, and another guard motioned me forward, bound my hands, and led me away from the dungeons. We were headed in the same direction I'd been led from yesterday. I cursed silently. The king was not someone I wanted to be around this early in the morning. Unfortunately for me, my opinion didn't matter much to his royal highness.

He sat on his throne, eating breakfast. The smell of eggs wafted over to me, and my stomach growled in response. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten. At some point when I was with the Ra'zac, I knew, but they didn't like to catch me food and cook it very often. They did that every other day, I think. So, I'd probably eaten the day before yesterday. My stomach wasn't used to going one day without food, let alone two. I had a feeling it was going to have to get used to it though, and fast.

Galbatorix looked up as we entered the room, and he smiled. I couldn't tell if he meant it to look like the world's evilest smile in Alagaësia, but he definitely won that award.

"Welcome, Arianna," he said. I hated the sound of his voice.

I remained mute. If he wanted to talk to me, that was great. I had no desire to talk to him.

"Still stubborn, I see," he continued on. _Yes_, I thought. _Still stating the obvious, I see_.

"So, if you won't tell me about Eragon, I suppose I'll just have to take the information by force."

He must've really been desperate to know. He hadn't even let me settle in and starve. After all, he'd been the one to say no food or water. But I was prepared for this. I'd spent eight years building up wards around my mind. I wasn't sure how strong he was, but he wasn't getting into this mind.

I felt a pressure on my mind, and my prepared mental image of Eragon popped up in my mind. I wasn't letting anybody through to hurt my brother. After about ten minutes, he gave up. He was worked up and in a rage.

"Bring her here!" he shouted at the guard who had brought me in. The guard did as he had been commanded, and I received a blow to the face that sent me staggering back to where I'd been before. I held my cheek and tried not to cry. A tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. The sight of the Ra'zac briefly cluttered up my slightly confused mind, but I pushed it aside irritably. They were probably leaving soon anyway, and I shouldn't care why they were still here anyway. At least while they were here, they weren't out hunting my brother and father. But my brother and father were still hunting them.

Galbatorix was still furious, and continued to scream at me. Finally, he told the guard to, "Get that goddamn girl out of my sight!" Once again, I was led back to the dungeons and locked inside. At least this time the walls would be useful for something. I leaned my stinging cheek against the damp wall and closed my eyes, wishing that this was all just a bad dream.


	8. Chapter 8: A Twin's Memories

Weeks passed by in more or less the same manner. Galbatorix's rages became steadily worse. A blow to the face here, a kick to the stomach there. A few bones were broken, but he always had his healers fix me up. Again, like the Ra'zac, it wasn't out of any kind of compassion. He absolutely loathed me. He had his magicians working around the clock to try and figure out my true name. The king was so used to breaking into people's minds that when he couldn't break into mine, he started breaking into everyone else's minds just to make sure he could still do it. For someone who was supposed to be all high and mighty, he was mighty insecure of himself.

Eragon's memories flung themselves at me when I slept. As twins, our minds were almost the same. They would've been even more linked if we'd been the same gender. Luckily, I took after our mother. Without her, I wouldn't have been able to use magic. That was the only reason, after all. She had been a spellcaster. Yes, my father could also use magic, but that was because he'd been a Dragon Rider.

Eragon was learning how to read. I remembered when Brom first taught me. I'd been about ten, but once I figured it out, I was hooked. I devoured everything that was in Brom's possession, and when I couldn't read anything more, I wrote silly stories, just to have something to read later. Brom found that humorous for some reason. At least Eragon was somewhere comfortable for the moment. And free.

I sighed wistfully. I wished that I could be with them. I missed them. I even missed Saphira, and I'd only ever had contact with her the one time. But she saved my brother, and that was all I cared about.

I saw one of Eragon's memories when I was awake. Through it, I saw Angela the Herbalist and her werecat, Solembum. I was especially interested in the fortune she told Eragon using a dragon's knucklebones. She told him that he would live forever or have a long life, which he'd already known. Then she told him about how he was free to choose his own fate, but that there was a doom upon him. She also told him he would leave this land forever. My reaction was similar to his. Where would he go? And a death in his future. My thoughts instantly raced. Me? No, I was sure I wasn't going to be killed anytime soon, and like I said earlier, I'm not suicidal. Then my thoughts reached Brom, and my heart lurched. What if it was Brom? I refused to think about it. When she told Eragon of his epic romance, I laughed out loud. The guard must've thought I was finally cracking. If only he knew how wrong he was. My laughing was cut off when she mentioned a betrayal in the family. Would I really crack? After all, I was the one in the perfect position to betray him. And he would never blame me for giving in. No one would. Except me. And I didn't want to be the only one blaming me, so I just wouldn't have to give in.

The guard passed me water through the door, and a small plate of measly food that didn't look worth eating. However, my stomach was begging for food, so I ate the crummy food to appease it. After the first few weeks of checking for drugs and not finding any, I stopped worrying about it. He didn't know that I could use magic, so why would he waste his precious magic drugs on me?

When I was done with the plate and the jug, I pushed them under the door for the guard to pick up. I sat back down on my stone bed and leaned my head against the slimy wall. I was filthy. I hadn't seen my reflection in a long time, but based on the amount of filth I could feel in my hair, I didn't really want to anyway.

When the guard came to unlock the door, I straightened my shoulders and tried to look brave. The king awaited and, when I refused, another beating.


	9. Chapter 9: News

During my sleep, I was plagued by a horrible premonition. It was worse than the one I'd had over and over again growing up about the Ra'zac coming and tearing my life apart. This premonition was of Brom's death, and it made me wake up screaming. Tears flooded my cheeks. Night after night I dreamt of nothing else. My throat grew hoarse. The worst part, though, was there was nothing I could do to stop it. If I made up my mind that I was going to break out of here and rush to Dras-Leona to stop the Ra'zac and save him, he died. If I didn't do anything, he died. If I contacted Eragon through our tight twin connection bond, he died. No matter what, he died! Seeing my father die over and over again nearly broke me. Galbatorix seemed to sense that something was bothering me. It made him try harder to break into my mind. Luckily, I still had enough of a fighting spirit in me to keep him out.

A few weeks passed by, and when the guard came to get me, I prepared myself for the usual mind attack. However, when we arrived in Galbatorix's chambers, it was so that he could tell me that he was making a trip to Dras-Leona, and it was the last time I would be seeing him for a while. He was sending me to Gil'ead in the hopes that the Shade, Durza, would somehow be more productive than he had been at breaking me. If I knew I wouldn't be beaten for it, I would've laughed out loud. As if anyone besides the king had a chance at breaking into my mind! But then, maybe that was the whole point. Galbatorix had finally become so bent out of shape about not being able to break me, he wanted someone else to wear me down for him. When that was done, I'd probably be sent back to Urû'baen so that he could have the satisfaction of finally breaking me.

I didn't really care about his motives. The fact that I was getting away from him made me ecstatic. Maybe I could even escape on the trip there! The more I thought about that possibility, the more I knew it could never happen. They'd be sure to drug me, to prevent that from happening. And it didn't really matter if I was to get free. I'd never be able to save Brom. And Eragon was still in the dark about who Brom really was in relation to him. I sighed, very much distressed.

The king was still blabbing away. It seemed to dawn on him that I wasn't paying him any attention. Once that realization hit him, it wasn't much of a surprise that he started his assault on my mind. It was a useless effort in the end. My defenses were secure. I lifted my eyes up slowly to meet his in an act of defiance, and he scowled, but otherwise made no move to make me pay for it. In fact, he seemed rather jovial for a man who'd just lost again at the "breaking into your mind" game.

"Well, I suppose that this goodbye for now, Arianna," he said pleasantly. Or as pleasantly as he was capable of speaking.

I didn't answer. His attitude made me wonder if maybe, just _maybe_ Durza was more capable of breaking me than I'd originally thought. Or maybe he was just glad to be rid of me.

He beckoned forth a guard. "Take her to get cleaned up. And get her some clean clothes." I might not have heard right, but I could've sworn he'd said in an undertone, "Not that she'll be awake on the trip to appreciate them anyways."

Of course he'd want me to be cleaned up. Make it seem like he was a good king, kind to all of his subjects. If I arrived in Gil'ead looking like a punching bag, what with all the dried blood I suspected was very visible caked in my hair and elsewhere on my body, it would raise suspicions. And the king couldn't afford any more of those. I followed the guard to cleanse myself of the filth of Urû'baen, knowing it would be replaced by the filth of Gil'ead.


	10. Chapter 10: Gil'ead

The first thought I had upon waking up was that I felt drowsy. When I opened my eyes, I had to wait for the world to stop spinning before I could focus on anything. And when the world stopped spinning and I could focus, I realized that all I was focusing on was a slimy concrete dungeon wall. I sighed; so much for escaping on the trip. I could only remember blurs, and they didn't help me out much.

One thing that the drugs _had _been useful for was blocking out dreams. Or, in my case, premonitions that I was powerless to stop. They had to have been in Dras-Leona by now. His days were numbered.

I threw my fist at the wall. I'd never been one to go around hitting and kicking things when I was frustrated, but now seemed as good a time as any. Well, except for the minor issue with the broken hand I was now cradling against my chest. My knuckles were scraped where they'd made contact with the wall, and I was getting blood on the roughly clean dress I was wearing. I was too angry to care.

When the lock was unlocked and the door pushed open, I retreated to a corner of the room. I must've looked like a wounded wild animal. I shouldn't have been surprised that it was Durza who entered the room. After all, he was in charge of torturing me here. Better get to know who he was going to be torturing beforehand.

Going along with that same train of thought, I sized him up. His face was horrific to look at. His maroon eyes and filed teeth didn't help his appearance out any. He was average height, and slim overall, but that didn't fool me any. Shades were foul creatures, true, but they were very powerful. Durza was no exception.

"So this is our new Rider's twin," he said. Why was it that everyone always needed to state the obvious when dealing with me?

"And you're my new torture dealer." I figured I may as well stick with the pattern.

My response seemed to amuse him. "So it would seem. But I'll let you settle in a little while longer before I deal out your torture. Unless you decide to let me see into that pretty little head of yours." As if that was tempting at all.

My hand was still throbbing, but I pushed the pain away and glared defiantly at Durza. There was no way I was giving up my brother.

"No? What a pity. I'll be seeing you soon, Arianna."

I didn't doubt him. As soon as he was out of the cell, I turned my attention to my hand. "Waíse heill!" My hand healed, I sat down in a corner of the cell. After a while, I fell asleep. I didn't have another dream about Brom.


	11. Chapter 11: Escape

After nearly a month in Gil'ead, I figured out why the king had sent me here. Durza was a real bastard when it came to torture. He'd stand back while a soldier whipped me, occasionally barking at him to stop and asking me if I was ready to give up yet. When I refused, he yelled for the soldier to carry on. I blacked out more than once. A few times, they came at me with a hot iron brand. Then, of course, there was the more traditional method of torture involving kicks and punches. I was used to that sort of thing from the king, but he had never done to me what Durza and his soldiers were doing now.

I wasn't the only one suffering at the hands of Durza though. There was an elf in the cell across from me. Durza had been trying without success to get information from her for nearly six months. I think he took out some of his frustration at not being able to break her out on me from time to time. The king wanted Durza to send the elf to Urû'baen next week so that he could try and get information from her. Durza had no choice but to agree. I could sense, though, that Durza was irritated that the king had more power and authority than he did. He wanted all the power for himself.

I was surprised one day when, after being forced awake and hauled roughly to my feet, Durza came to see me. It had been the general arrangement for the past month that I was taken to him for my torture sessions.

He looked extremely smug. I thought maybe he'd finally gotten the elf to admit defeat and give in. How wrong I was.

"You will be very pleased to know, I think, that your brother is here." Dread filled me. My face paled. How had I not seen this?

My reaction seemed to please him. "Now I have both of you. Maybe I won't give you back to Galbatorix..." he mused. I wasn't sure which one was the lesser evil. I was used to being around the king, but Eragon wasn't safe there. He wasn't safe here either, but at least here he wasn't in danger of being used by the king.

Durza left after a while, and the guard stuck food into my room. It was disturbing how used to the food I was. Then again, I'd been stuck eating it for months. And I had no fear of magic oppressing drugs, since no one knew that I could use it. Therefore, I was not a threat to them. That did have its drawbacks though. I couldn't heal my back after it was whipped and everything else, otherwise they'd figure it out. Grumbling to myself, I curled up and fell asleep.

I was once again rudely awakened, only this time it was by Durza himself. I didn't receive any sort of explanation – he tugged me out of the cell and towards the stairs. The room where I was usually tortured was just at the other end of the hall. There also seemed to be a lot of shouting going on. I wasn't sure when the thought hit me, but when it did, I smiled. _Eragon had escaped!_ I didn't know how, and I didn't care. He was out and on the run. So then what was Durza doing with me?

He hauled me into the banquet room at the same time I heard an unfamiliar voice say, "Let's just hope the Shade doesn't find us." Durza began to laugh. It was cold, and seemed to fill every corner of the room. I saw Eragon and the owner of the unfamiliar voice spin around. Eragon looked so much different than he had when I'd last seen him. The other man was an inch or so taller than my brother, and had brown hair. Evidently he was here to help Eragon escape. And I was here to be his downfall.

"Arianna?" Eragon asked, disbelief and a hint of something else coloring his voice. The man beside him looked at Eragon sharply. He understood what this was.

"Yes, your dear, precious sister. What a shame it would be if she was hurt because of your escape." The seed of doubt had been placed, and my brother was falling for it.

"Just go, Eragon!" I shouted at him. If my voice didn't give away the danger of the situation, maybe the panicky look in my eyes would do it. Or maybe he'd try and be a hero. I really hoped he wouldn't. But then, he never had been one to catch on really fast.

He drew his sword, and if I would have looked, I would have seen a slow smile creep across Durza's face. As it was, I had eyes only for my brother. He was hopelessly outmatched. They stood facing each other, and then the ceiling began to shake. When Eragon automatically looked up, Durza took advantage of the opportunity and attacked. And what did I do? I stayed rooted to the spot, like an idiot, watching it all play out. When Eragon's sword was knocked from his hands, I sucked in a breath.

"A powerful piece you may be in the game that is being played," Durza began haughtily, "But I'm disappointed that this is your best. If the other Rider's were this weak, they must have controlled the Empire only through sheer numbers."

When Eragon told him that he had forgotten something, Durza responded by asking what that might have been. He was still mocking him.

"The dragons!" my brother roared as he darted out of the way. He was surprised when the man that was with Eragon shot him through the shoulder with an arrow. Then he laughed and said that he'd have to do better. The next arrow went through his forehead, and after screaming in agony, he disappeared. The soldiers entered the room then, and Eragon and the man pulled the elf to the back of the room with them. I hadn't noticed they'd had her until then.

The soldiers were eventually scattered and gone after Saphira stuck her head in the room. Now it was time for the escaping part. But how could she possibly carry four people?

"Arianna, come on!" my brother shouted at me.

I looked doubtfully at Saphira, who looked at me with one of her sapphire eyes. _I can carry all of you_. Her words reassured me, and I rushed over and grasped Eragon's outstretched hand. Saphira's flying was awkward and labored, and it didn't help with the archers flinging arrows down upon us. But somehow she managed to get us all away safely, and that was all we needed.


	12. Chapter 12: Effects of Durza

Saphira landed about a half-league from Gil'ead, and I hopped down. I still didn't know who Eragon's traveling friend was. I saw two horses nearby, and with a pang, I realized that the white one was the one Brom had ridden on during his travels with Eragon. Evidently Eragon rode on him now.

Eragon jumped down after me, running his hands blindly over Saphira to look for wounds. Then he came upon the arrow that was stuck in her wing.

"Murtagh!" he called. That gave me a name. I supposed I owed him, since he risked his life to break in and help Eragon get out.

The boy/man named Murtagh came over, and Eragon instructed him where to hold her wing at. I stood by the horses, and tentatively reached out with my mind to reassure them that I meant no harm. Snowfire let me stroke his neck. He really was a beautiful horse.

Saphira whimpered, and I saw that Murtagh had been clipped by her wing and knocked to the ground. Well, I mostly heard it, since I was paying more attention to the horses than I was to what they were doing. I didn't zone in again until I heard footsteps approaching, and I looked up and met Eragon's gaze. The elf was strapped in and in the air with Saphira. Without speaking, I got on Snowfire behind Eragon and held on as they took off. There was no point in reminding him that I was the better rider.

* * *

When we stopped to make camp at around dawn, I climbed off and almost fell over. Murtagh grabbed my hand before that could happen. As soon as I was steadied, he busied himself with helping Eragon get the elf out of Saphira's saddle. They set about to talking, and I absentmindedly found a blanket and stretched it out on the ground to make a bed for the elf. I sucked in a breath when Eragon found all of her wounds. He pushed her sleeve all the way up, and then unlaced the back of her shirt, where the greatest extent of the damage was. I'd forgotten about my back. If hers looked that bad, I didn't want to know what mine looked like. Evidently my brother didn't agree with me. His head whipped up, and he looked at me sharply.

"Did they do this to you?" he asked, anger unmistakably shaking his voice.

"Yes," I mumbled, not looking at him. I heard him move towards me and snapped, "I'm fine! Take care of her problems. I can live with mine."

"Let me see," he insisted.

"Fine, but I'm not letting you waste your energy and Saphira's trying to heal it now. The elf's your top priority, understand? She endured a lot more than I did."

The dress I wore laced up the back, and I sucked in a breath when Eragon's fingers came in contact with my skin. I'd used magic to make the pain more bearable. It was wearing off now. I was going to have to sleep on my stomach in order to get any sleep at all.

"Who did this to you? I'll kill him!"

"Durza was in charge of torturing us."

Eragon swore and complained about how Durza was already dead, so he couldn't kill him.

"I wouldn't be too sure, brother. If it was that easy, why have only two people in history been able to kill them?"

He didn't answer me. He just laced my dress back up, and Murtagh brought him cold food and bandages. While Eragon labored away on healing the elf, I sat near the horses. Murtagh was close by. I figured I'd start the conversation.

"Thank you, for helping my brother." My voice was filled with gratitude.

He grunted, but didn't say anything. Some conversation that was. Until, "How did you come to be in Gil'ead?"

The lull in our "conversation" had been so long that his question startled me, but I calmed down quickly enough.

"Galbatorix grew irritated with his failed attempts at breaking into my mind, so he sent me to Gil'ead and put me under Durza's "care" nearly a month ago."

"The king couldn't gain entry into your mind? That must've made him angry."

"You have no idea. He started breaking into everyone's minds just to reassure himself that he could still do it." I shuddered, remembering the one man that he'd gone too far with. He went insane. The king had killed him.

"Sounds like Galbatorix," Murtagh agreed darkly.

Eragon came stumbling over then, and when he proposed we start riding again, Murtagh and I looked at him like he was out of his mind.

"I'll sit behind you, Anna," Eragon said, using the nickname he'd given me when we were kids. He was the only one allowed to call me that. "You always were the better rider." So I got on Snowfire, Eragon got on behind me, and we started riding.


	13. Chapter 13: The Varden

I was miserable. Not as miserable as I was when I was a captive in the king's court and later in Gil'ead, but just plain miserable. We'd been riding at an insane pace, and now we were getting chased by Urgals. How great was that? This was worse than having to cross the Ramr River with Saphira carrying the horses. I'd thought we were goners for sure. And then bumbling around in the desert was pretty bad too. If it hadn't been for Eragon's stupid curiosity nearly getting him killed when he decided to try and sneak into Arya's mind (the elf), we'd still be running around the desert clueless. Now we had a direction that only had one entry point – which was behind us – and we were being driven in by Urgals. I cursed whatever god was up there that would bring such bad luck down upon us. This was even worse than what had happened two nights ago.

* * *

_Two Nights Ago_

When Saphira was on her way back from her hunt, we ran into another problem. _Slavers_. When they discovered Arya, they went berserk.

"Well, 'ow much is she worth?" one of them asked.

Their leader, who's name was Torkenbrand, (one of his stupid buddies had shouted it when they'd found Arya) replied, "At the very least? Fortune upon fortunes. The Empire will pay a mountain of gold for her!"

Then their attentions focused on me. I'd been in a very strategic location, situated behind Eragon and Murtagh. For some reason, Eragon had shifted to the left a little, and they'd spotted me.

"What about her?" The same one who'd asked about Arya's price pointed me out now. How I would love to see him bleed. Torkenbrand shifted his attention toward me and smiled. It wasn't one of those "Hi, pleased to meet you," smiles. It was the single most creepy, unnerving smile I'd ever seen in my entire life. It even beat out Galbatorix's. It made my skin crawl.

"I don't think I'll be selling her, boys." They all laughed. Eragon stiffened, and then he signaled something to Murtagh. They started fighting, and a minute later, Saphira dropped from the sky.

"Behold! I am a Rider!" Eragon shouted. "Flee if you wish to live!"

Yeah, just let them go back and tell the king exactly where we are. That'll help us out a lot. Something came over me, and I quietly raised my hand and muttered three words in the ancient language. The man I'd been looking at running away from me fell down, dead as a doorknob. No one seemed to notice, just like no one noticed their fallen leader struggling to get up. Murtagh dismounted from his horse and strode over to him. I barely noticed the sword in his hand. I stared, devoid of any sort of emotion, as Murtagh swung his sword at Torkenbrand's neck. My brother, on the other hand, was overcome with emotion.

"No!" he shouted, but he was too late. Then he went and started yelling at Murtagh about how rotten he was. Murtagh was simply perplexed by Eragon's fury. But I understood where Murtagh was coming from. Eragon could not.

"He's right, you know." I said quietly.

Eragon whirled on me. "What do you mean, he's right?! He killed him, when he couldn't fight back!"

"He was hardly innocent, Eragon. Do you honestly think we were the first ones they'd ever come across in the desert? There are probably plenty of people that are slaves now, no thanks to him and his men. I'd have killed him if Murtagh didn't."

"With what? Your fingernails?" Sarcasm now, to hide behind.

"I would've found a better way," I told him. He just had no idea. The next day, Eragon rode with Saphira to be away from us.

* * *

Presently, we were running for our lives. When Saphira and Eragon returned and mentioned how they were the biggest Urgals Saphira had ever seen, Murtagh decided they were Kull. That didn't make us feel any better. In fact, it made us feel a lot worse. The elite of the Urgals were tracking us down. How special we were.

Later on, Murtagh and I saw Eragon and Saphira dropping rocks on our good friends, preventing them from overtaking us. Murtagh seemed tenser than usual, and when Eragon landed and mentioned that there wasn't a way out, he stopped the horses altogether and exploded. After a few tense minutes, it was discovered that Murtagh was Morzan's son. Of course, Eragon began to distrust him. I didn't though. He'd saved Eragon's life more than once – and put himself in danger each and every time. But who was I to argue with Eragon the mighty Rider and Saphira, the dragon to make him the mighty Rider.

And so it was with all these conflicting feelings that we arrived at the Varden's gates, or rather, waterfall, with a large group of Kull on our heels. On top of that, it turned out we were on the wrong side, and there was no where to go but across. The undertow was strong, and we were pulled down. Suddenly, a strong arm grabbed me, and I was pulled inside the waterfall. Coughing and spitting up water, I looked around and didn't feel much better. We'd gone from being hunted by Kull to being in the center of a hostile circle of angry, scared, and confused men. _The Varden_.


	14. Chapter 14: Mind Games

Eragon was beside himself. All he wanted to do was get these stupid men to help Arya, and they wouldn't let him speak. The tall, bald asshole of a man standing at Murtagh's elbow was pressing a knife against his throat. I'd had enough drama to last me a lifetime.

"There's an injured-" Eragon began, but was cut off, yet again, by the bald man.

"Do not speak! It must wait until you have been tested."

Recently, I'd been extremely irritable. It must've had something to do with having to constantly outrun everything the Empire sent our way.

The bald man fluttered around, barking orders like, "Remove your weapons and slide them to me." I didn't trust this man. I wasn't giving up the small knife I had hidden in my bodice. I had a feeling I might need it.

"Now step away from your dragon and slowly approach me," he commanded of my brother. He did as he was told, until, "Stop there! Now remove the defenses from around your mind and prepare to let me inspect your thoughts and memories. If you try to hide anything from me, I will take what I want by force...which would drive you mad. If you don't submit, your companion will be killed."

Eragon asked why, and the bald man explained that he was checking to make sure that he didn't work for Galbatorix and to understand why hundreds of Urgals were banging on their front door. That was a load of crap. I couldn't believe that the man called Ajihad, whom Brom had been very respectful towards when he talked about him, could possibly think that it was a good idea to put a man like that in charge. I didn't want to have to reveal the extent of my knowledge, but if it came to the point where I felt I had no other choice, I would. It was clear that the dwarf that had pulled us out didn't like him either.

Eventually, the dwarf told the bald man to quit being stupid and blind, and couldn't he see that that was an elf on the dragon's back? When it was discovered that it was Arya, they shuffled her off hurriedly to find a healer. The bald man returned his attention to Eragon.

"Enough of this, we have wasted too much time already. Prepare to be examined."

Eragon bowed his head. "I am ready."

After a warning from Orik, the man began chanting in the ancient language. I stepped in front of Eragon when he uttered his last word.

"No!" I growled.

Immediately, my defenses were being pressed upon, but not for too long. The bald man stopped and glared at me.

When I didn't move, he raised his hand, as if to strike at me with magic. Without thinking, I shouted the word for 'hold' in the ancient language. His hand froze in midair, and I glared at him, my anger taking over everything. Eragon stared at me in shock. Murtagh looked at me curiously. All I saw was red. And the bald man was in the center of everything the red surrounded.

"How dare you! I've spent _eight years_ studying under Brom, learning how to protect my mind so I could protect my brother when the time came. And you think that I'm just going to let you examine his mind when I've spent four months being tortured and starved to protect him? If Brom hadn't died to save my brother, he'd be here right now. Would you stop him from entering with Eragon?" I paused to let my words sink in. At the mention of Brom, he seemed to balk a little, but was still trying to look at Eragon.

"Enough!" I jerked his hand backwards at an awkward angle. The men surrounding him stepped closer. "I will not stand here and be interrogated by you. I wish to see Ajihad. You'll lose your hand in about five seconds if you delay any longer."

"It's alright, Anna," Eragon said from behind me. "They can examine it."

The man smirked. I pushed his hand back as far as it could go. Any farther and it would be broken.

"I still wish to see Ajihad."

He glowered, but gave in. One of the dwarves led me away. I didn't look back. I wasn't sure who infuriated me more – the bald man or Eragon. I'd spent all that time suffering to protect him, and he was just going to willingly give up the information, as if it meant nothing? The red was still there.

I was so angry that the beauty and magnificence of Tronjheim failed to impress itself upon me. No one cast me a second glance as I followed the dwarf. Eventually, we were standing in front of a massive cedar door, stained black with age. The dwarf opened it, and I followed him inside. At the opposite end of the room, sitting at a desk swamped with papers, a man sat behind a large walnut desk. His skin was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. It was the color of oiled ebony. He stood up, exuding an air of command as he held himself with great dignity.

"What's going on?" The question was directed at the dwarf.

"She wished to speak with you. The twin could not stop her. She was stronger in magic than he was."

Ajihad's eyes widened a little, and he appeared to be reassessing me. I had all day. While we stood there, I had to work hard not to grimace. I could feel the bald man's probe in Eragon's mind as well as if he was probing my own. I kept my defenses up.

The dwarf left after a few more words were spoken, and Ajihad sat down, motioning to a chair in front of the desk. I sat down and waited.

"I have been told that you are the sister of the new Dragon Rider. Correct?"

I nodded my head, but made no other indication that I wished to speak. He filled the gap.

"How do you expect me to trust you when you won't let yourself, or your brother, be examined?"

"Eragon's being examined now. As far as I go, I've spent eight years learning how to defend my mind from all kinds of attacks. Galbatorix couldn't break my mind, so why should I willingly lower my defenses? Eragon letting his mind be probed really put to waste the four months I sat around in a dungeon cell, enduring all sorts of pain to ensure that no one got any information on him that they didn't already have, and yet we come here for help, and you want the same thing? It's ridiculous. If Brom were here, you wouldn't dare try to examine our minds."

He leaned forward in his chair, and reached into his desk. "You speak highly of Brom. This was his ring. I expect it should go to you now." I looked at it, and then a vision of an elf with a cloak made of swan feathers handing Eragon that same ring and naming him elf friend made me decline the offer.

"Give it to Eragon. He'll need it more than I will."

"Very well." He placed it back in the desk. "Now, you say that you kept Galbatorix out? I want details."

So I gave him the details, starting way back in Carvahall from when I was eight and working my way towards the present. I skipped the unimportant years, of course. At some point during my narration, food was brought in. I was ravenous, but I picked at the food sparingly. No need to look like a pig. Besides, talking with your mouth full was rude.

When I spoke of Gil'ead and Durza, his eyes widened. It was about time someone recognized the name. I mean, how many Shades were there? Was someone going to confuse Durza with another Shade? I didn't think so.

When I was finished, I sat back with my food and finished eating. Ajihad let me finish before saying anything.

"That's quite a tale. You're very devoted to your brother," he noted.

"He's my twin. I'd die before I gave up anything that would lead to his downfall."

Ajihad nodded solemnly. "I'll grant you your freedom without having to be probed."

I smiled. "Thank you." Then I decided to tell him something that I'd never told another sole in Alagaësia. "And sir? Just so you know, Brom was my father. Eragon doesn't know though, so you can't tell him, or anyone else for that matter."

He looked surprised; his mouth was hanging open in a small 'o'. It would've looked quite comical if I hadn't been staring at him so intently. I just entrusted him with my biggest secret, and all he could do was sit there and gape at me? Oh no, maybe he'll tell someone!

"Alright, Arianna. Alright." He still looked a little shocked, but at least now I knew he wouldn't tell anyone. That's all I needed to know. With that all taken care of, I followed Ajihad out of the room as he sought out someone to find me comfortable quarters to stay in.


	15. Chapter 15: Comfortable Living

After being in the Varden for a few days, I decided I liked it here. The twins had sought me out the first day and asked me to join their stupid little club. They called it Du Vranger Gata. I agreed with Angela – it was a pitiful name. I'd enjoyed meeting Angela for the first time. She was quite a character. Solembum was entertaining to talk with too. After speaking with me, Angela asked if I'd like my fortune told. I'd politely declined though. I didn't want to know what was coming. It was bad enough that some situations presented themselves all by themselves without having someone else pointing them out as well. No, it would only cause me grief to have my fortune told by Angela's dragon bones. Because the bones did not lie.

Obviously, the twins were angry when I refused their offer. They glared at me as they left. They didn't even have their name right! Correctly, it would've been Du Gata Vranger. The only reason they wanted me in their group anyway, I was sure, was so that they could gain an idea of how much I knew about magic, and to see what Brom had taught me. I wasn't about to let Brom's knowledge go to waste on those two. My brother had caused quite a stir his first day here – well, technically his second. He'd blessed an orphaned girl, and Saphira had touched her and given her a bright mark on her forehead, much like the mark on his hand.

The dwarves' cooking was excellent. The first meal I had in Tronjheim was steaming mushrooms and fish. After having eaten nothing but cold food for months, it was a pleasant change. My room was nice too – not too close to anyone else, but not too far from the city. It had a bed in the corner, and a small armoire for clothes. A dwarven woman had stocked it with clothes that were my size, and I'd changed out of the disgusting dress I'd been wearing since I'd been taken to Gil'ead in favor of a simpler, more comfortable dress. It was dark green, my favorite color, and the sleeves were long, to cover some of the bruises I hadn't taken the time to heal. This one didn't have any crisscrossing in the back.

Arya was getting better, I'd heard. I spent a lot of my free time with a girl a little older than me, Nasuada, who happened to be Ajihad's daughter. We had quite a bit in common, and it was good to finally have another girl to talk to. I missed Katrina very much. Contrary to Eragon's belief, Katrina had not spent all of her time talking my ear off about Roran. Sometimes she needed to vent about Sloan, which was understandable. He wasn't much of a father, and he didn't have much in the manner department either. Besides, I had a personal vendetta against him for ratting out Eragon to the Ra'zac.

Today, Nasuada and I were just walking around the city and enjoying ourselves. When we passed a room where a small group of people were gathered, she hushed me and pressed herself close to the wall. I followed suit. There were five people, three men and two women. Nasuada told me they were Jörmundur, Umérth, Falberd, Sabrae, and Elessari. Nasuada was as close to the doorway as she could be without being seen. I used a couple select words from the ancient language to make it easier for me to eavesdrop on them. They were talking about Eragon and Saphira, and also Arya. Evidently they weren't sure what to make of Eragon, and they were irritated that Arya hadn't been able to answer all their pointless questions. Nasuada shook her head and turned back to look at me. Wordlessly, we moved away from the room and back towards the city.

"The council members are irritating. I admit, they're very good at what they do, but what they do often times is skewed, and they try to back people into corners a lot."

I smiled wryly, "I'll have to remember that, incase I ever have any dealings with them."

She laughed. "Did you hear them talking about Eragon and Saphira? They're absolutely beside themselves. They've never had to deal with anything like them before."

"They'd better be careful. If they think dealing with Eragon and Saphira is tricky territory, then they'll be completely lost with dealing with me. I get very protective very quickly, and unfortunately for them, Brom did teach me how to play the politics game."

Laughing, we headed deeper into the city and amused ourselves for the rest of the day. The last time I'd been this happy was when the traders came to Carvahall, and I got to listen to Brom's retelling in the center of town. I saddened a little. It had been the last story I ever heard him tell.


	16. Chapter 16: Training Field

I'd decided that I wanted to learn how to fight with a sword. I was pretty good with a bow – Eragon had taught me after Uncle Garrow had taught him – but I didn't want to have to rely on that skill alone. It was only really useful from far away and a high vantage point, and that would require me to be too far away from Eragon to help him if something happened. Yes, I could rely on magic, but I didn't want it to be my only defense. So I asked Nasuada where the training field was.

When I arrived, I realized that I was the only woman there. The place was crawling with men, and I dimly remembered Nasuada saying that I should find a man named Fredric to help me train. She also told me he was going to be doing my brother's training when he was ready to come down.

"Excuse me?" I asked a man standing nearby. "Could you tell me where I could find Fredric?"

He pointed at a large bearded man standing in the center of the arena, and I thanked him. The man seemed surprised to see me, but was not ignorant of my identity.

"You'd be Arianna, right? The Rider's sister?"

I smiled, "Yes," and explained to him why I was there. His expression grew displeased, and he had a frown on his face.

"I don't think that fighting is something that a woman should be learning about. Have you spoken with Ajihad?"

"I shouldn't have to, and I will be on that battlefield, whether you or anyone else likes it or not. Would you have me totally reliant on my magic?"

At the mention of magic, his expression darkened, then cleared up a bit.

"Alright, Miss Arianna, I'll teach you. First though, we need to find you a sword."

I think that was the hardest part of the whole day. All of the swords were too heavy for me to pick up, let alone stab someone with. I might be able to trip an Urgal with one of them, but somebody would have to be in charge of killing them off as they fell. After what seemed like forever of searching, we found one. It was light, with an irregular blue blade and a square-shaped guard. The grip was made of a blue metal and set with pearls. It looked brand new, and I doubted that it had ever been used before. That was good for me though, since I'd never used a sword before.

Fredric lead me back to the training area, and began to explain the basics of swordplay to me.

"Now, a lot of beginners have a tendency to hold onto the sword too tight. Don't. Use two hands if you need to, otherwise you only need your thumb and first two fingers."

I struggled to do as he said, but was rewarded with a large smile from the bear of a man, and then more instructions.

"Your sword should be in line with your arm; don't wave it all around. It should feel like an extension of your arm. Basically, if it feels weird, you're holding it wrong. Straighten your arm and bend it gently, and always keep your sword pointed at your opponent, which would be me."

It was hard to keep up! I looked to Fredric for guidance, and he showed me slowly. I mimicked him, and after about ten tries I figured it out.

"Now, attack me."

I held onto the sword with both hands and lunged forward. He blocked me effortlessly.

"Your footwork needs some help. Keep your front toe inline with the blade, otherwise you'll misdirect it. Again!

"No, you've got to use your wrist. Bend your arm slightly and twist your wrist to parry. And stop scrambling around like that! Use your left arm for balance.

"Keep your weight on the back foot! Keep your elbow in line with your leg. It's just like your toe; it misdirects the blade. Good! You're doing- No! You're too tense during your thrusts. Start out loose, like you're going to punch someone. There you go! Keep at it!"

This is the way it was for an hour. Once I figured out a general idea of what I was doing, he stopped shouting so much, and muttered some helpful tips when I screwed up. I finally got a break when Eragon and Orik showed up. Eragon was surprised to see me.

"You're learning how to fight?"

"Yes."

"She's doing quite well," Fredric chipped in. "The names Fredric," he told Eragon. I tuned out for a while, getting my breath back. Saphira looked at me curiously. When the twins showed up, we moved toward a corner of the field so they could test Eragon. Like anyone really needed to do that. They pitted him with pointless exercises, and to their obvious annoyance, he prevailed. Finally, they told him that his last exercise was to produce the essence of silver.

"Any _competent_ user of magic should find this easy."

That didn't make any sense. Brom never told me anything about this. I voiced my question out loud. The twins ignored me, and Eragon wasn't about to let them beat him. He stood still for a moment, then stood up straighter and took a deep breath.

"Stop!" A female voice cried.

We all turned to look at the source, and it turned out to be Arya. She berated them for trying to make him do something they couldn't do, and they fled quickly enough. Then she claimed the right of trial by arms and had Eragon draw his sword. Eragon was obviously fixed on her; he probably wasn't even thinking clearly. A wicked grin flashed across my face before I could stop it, but I didn't care. It was a very good fight to watch. I was going to need a lot of practice to get anywhere close to their skill. It made me realize that Eragon had come a long way from what he was growing up. He'd always had a knack for hunting, but this was totally different. Even Fredric stared at them in awe.

When it was over, everyone congratulated him. Arya stood by herself a little ways away from me. I nodded in her direction, then turned back to watch Eragon. My hair moved, revealing a large bruise the size of Durza's hand on my neck that I hadn't got around to healing. Suddenly she grabbed my hand and started rushing me away from the field and toward a knoll that was about a mile away. I was dimly aware that Eragon and Saphira flew above us.

"You were a captive in Gil'ead too?" she called over her shoulder as we ran.

"Yes!" I replied, practically screaming to make my voice heard. I wasn't even running; I was just being dragged behind.

"Why?" Evidently she didn't see the family resemblance.

"Because Eragon is my twin brother."

We'd reached the knoll, which was good, because Arya stopped dead in her tracks to gape at me. Eragon and Saphira landed. I sensed that Saphira was irritated about something, and Eragon's ears' were tinged red. They'd been talking about Arya, I could tell.

She regained her composure. "I'm sorry, I just didn't know that he had a twin. Nobody told me."

"It's fine with me. I wish that the Ra'zac hadn't gone and screwed everything up. Then nobody would no that Eragon had a twin, and therefore a weakness."

Eragon dismounted and walked over, but Arya strode past him and spoke words only for Saphira in the ancient language. Then they got off talking about how Arya was in Eragon's debt for saving her life, and how she came to be imprisoned in Gil'ead. I already knew most of what she told him from the time I'd spent in Gil'ead. I felt out of place. Eragon was totally focused on Arya, and she seemed only to be speaking to him as well. At least Saphira was there to suffer along with me. Otherwise I'd never have been able to stand it.

**Just a quick thanks to Seventh Sanctum Sword Generator and for the information on swords/sword techniques. And Google, for always being there when I need to look something up. :-p**


	17. Chapter 17: Signs of War

I went with Eragon to visit Murtagh. I wished my captors had been as decent to me as Ajihad was to Murtagh. His cell was warm and well lit, with a washbasin in one corner and a writing desk in another. The ceiling was extensively carved with lacquered figures, and the floor was covered with a plush rug. Murtagh was reading a scroll when we came in, and when he spotted Eragon, he was overjoyed.

"Eragon! I'd hoped you would come!"

My brother was dumbfounded. He did quite a bit of stuttering, but Murtagh understood what he was referring to and explained to Eragon that Ajihad let him have all of this, and huge meals, as long as he didn't cause any trouble. He really was a good leader. Galbatorix and Durza couldn't ever hope to be on the same level. I wished everyone could know Ajihad; then the Varden would have the whole Empire's support. But alas, it was not so.

It seemed that Murtagh was pretty fond of Nasuada. I laughed silently to myself. She genuinely liked Murtagh too. After a time, he became aware of my presence. What really caught his attention was the sword strapped to my waist. Fredric let me keep it; it wasn't like he was going to do anything with it anyway.

"Arianna! Learning how to fight, are we?"

I informed that yes, I was going to learn, and then I was going to apply what I'd learned when the time came.

"Can you even keep that thing in your hand when someone whacks it with their sword?"

"Keep it up Murtagh," I told him dryly. "I'll test my skills out on you if you're not careful."

He laughed, "I'd love to see you try!" He was so lucky Eragon was there. I'd have sliced his head clean off.

* * *

That night, I dreamt of a large number of Urgals breaking into Tronjheim from all sorts of tunnels, and we couldn't catch them because they kept disappearing back into the tunnels, only to pop up somewhere else and catch us unawares. _I stood, fighting with an Urgal, and the man called Jörmundur shouted, "Why didn't we collapse the tunnels! We should've collapsed the tunnels!"_

I woke up; sweat soaked my body and my nightgown. A dwarf stood at the end of my bed.

"You must come, Ajihad has sent for you. Hurry!"

I pushed the covers out of the way and grabbed the robe at the end of the bed, wordlessly following the dwarf. Then I remembered the premonition.

"Are they collapsing the tunnels?"

The dwarf looked back at me, shocked, and almost ran into the wall before he recovered. "Yes Ma'm, Ajihad has two groups of dwarves working on them now. How-"

"Good. As for how I know, it's a kind of gift that I have."

He didn't say anything else, and we hurried to Ajihad's study. When I arrived, everyone else was there having an intense discussion. Ajihad looked up when I came in.

"Arianna, good. I need to speak with you, but after I talk with everyone else."

"Which tunnels are being collapsed, and do we have enough time?"

"Extraneous tunnels; we're narrowing it down to the three big ones in order to contain them."

I nodded, and he went back to talking with the larger group. Jormunder was there, along with Orik, Arya, Eragon, and Saphira. Eragon and Arya were to help collapse the tunnels; Eragon outside, Arya inside. That was good – Eragon couldn't waste time gawking at her if he couldn't see her.

Ajihad was also evacuating the women and children, so they wouldn't get caught up in the fighting. He claimed that Nasuada was going, but knowing her, she wouldn't. It wasn't her nature to run away from a fight. Once everyone had been assigned a task, they dispersed. Eragon looked at me questioningly on his way out. I shrugged my shoulders; I had no more of an idea as to what Ajihad wanted than he did.

"Will you be staying for battle, or going with the women and children?"

I was insulted that he would even consider sending me away with them. It was ridiculous to even think that I'd leave during the Varden's hour of need.

"I will stay."

He smiled tightly, "I'd hoped you'd say that. I need you to do something for me. Run and fetch Murtagh from his cell – I have written orders for the guard – and then both of you come back here. I will have armor sent here. While Murtagh is out and about, I want you to be his escort. Don't let him out of your sight! I don't believe that Murtagh will do anything, but I don't want to risk anything happening. Is that clear?"

I nodded, and I rushed from the study to where I remembered Murtagh's cell to be. Without stopping to chat, I thrust the paper at the guard, who scanned it quickly and proceeded to unlock the door. Murtagh was sleeping, but I didn't feel too bad about waking him. After all, I'd done it plenty of times before on our way here.

I shoved him, and he rolled over. Now was not the time for his stubborn sleeping habits! And he was supposed to be the lightest sleeper out of the three of us? I think he was dreaming. In an act of desperation, I slapped him across the face. His body jerked upwards, and he grabbed for his invisible sword, eyes reeling. The only visible light was coming in from the hallway.

"Get up, Murtagh! The Urgals are coming, and Ajihad wishes you to join us. Get up!" I don't think he was very coherent. That, or he didn't think I was being serious.

"Come on, Murtagh! We have to go. Ajihad is waiting."

Finally, he got up. As he stepped through the door, he looked at the guard, as if expecting him to stop him from leaving. I tugged on his hand once more, and we hurried back to Ajihad's study. There, we found armor waiting for us, and some small bread and water rations. Ajihad explained the conditions to Murtagh, and when we were dressed in our battle attire, he sent us to join the battalions. War was upon us.


	18. Chapter 18: It Begins

I was given a bay mare to ride into battle, and Murtagh, of course, had Tornac. Snowfire remained in the stables; I didn't want to ride him. My inexperience in battle could get him killed. Not that I wanted this mare to die – far from it – but there was a higher likelihood of her getting killed because she bore me.

When we approached Eragon and Orik, both stood. Well, Orik pretty much leapt to his feet in alarm, and Eragon warily stood up, also on edge. You'd think they'd be smarter than that. As if Murtagh was going to choose now to break out of his cell.

"It's alright; Ajihad released me."

"Why would he do that?"

"Does it matter?" I snapped. "I'm in charge of watching him, so relax."

Orik wasn't convinced. "How do we know you're not lying?" I wasn't sure if he was addressing me or Murtagh, or both. We were saved though, when Ajihad came strolling up and set them straight.

It was extremely boring, just sitting there, waiting for the inevitable. At least now I knew the inevitable wasn't so horrible. We stood a better chance with the tunnels collapsed. I noticed when Eragon perked up, and I had a hunch as to why. Sitting thirty feet away, Arya too was waiting for the battle. Of course, Eragon just had to get up and go talk to her. I had to agree with her when she told him off about not pampering her. Men were stupid when it came to women. Eragon especially so. Why, oh why, couldn't he ever keep his big mouth shut? I heard him mutter the words in the ancient language that meant 'For my happiness'. I also saw her uneasy reaction to them. Couldn't he stick to his own race? Our race? But _nooo_, he was a Dragon Rider. He was going to live forever. I ground my teeth together and looked away.

"It has begun," Arya said.

When the Urgals finally made it out of the tunnel, I was overjoyed. I could take my anger out on something that would bleed. After a couple tries at killing the Kull, I gave up on the sword and stuck with magic. That, at least, I knew. Murtagh had to kill the Kull for me that I'd tried to get with the sword. I guess he was watching out for me more than I was watching out for him.

I was glad Ajihad hadn't asked me to communicate with the twins – I remembered their disgusting probing through Eragon, and I didn't want that anywhere near my conscience.

I tried to make my spells as simple as possible, to preserve strength. Murtagh chopped down the ones that came at me when I was focused on another group nearby. At one point, I saw that Eragon and Saphira were separated. The Urgals were surrounding Saphira, and Eragon was surrounded as well.

"Murtagh, help him!" I shouted.

He rushed off on Tornac, and I continued with my magical onslaught. When I was turned away, an Urgal took advantage of the distraction and killed my horse. I toppled to the ground and rolled, pushing myself to my feet quickly. I understood now why magicians needed to be protected during a battle. The monster of an Urgal advanced upon me, and I raised my hand and shouted, "Jierda!" Its neck broke. That didn't really matter though, since there were about three or four more to take his place.

I felt myself being jerked upwards, and Murtagh set me on the back of Tornac.

"You should have gone with the women and children!" he shouted at me angrily.

That may be, but it was too late now. Besides, if I could get to a higher vantage point, I'd be able to use magic without having to constantly look over my shoulder for Urgals. There was a ledge nearby – Murtagh could drop me off there.

"Take me to that ledge! I can fight better from there."

He changed course and galloped towards the ledge. At that moment, I sensed another magic user attempting to gain access to my thoughts. I pushed outward with my mind to keep them out, and clambered up quickly. Murtagh circled around and headed back to the fighting, and I tried to ferret out the other magician. _There!_ Surrounded by a group of Urgals so that he didn't have to worry about being attacked, a small, beady-eyed man was mouthing words quickly. I wasn't sure what he was saying, but I wasn't going to wait around to find out. Using magic, I picked up a rock, about the size of my fist, and sent it hurtling towards his head. It hit its mark, and he collapsed, never to rise again.

Suddenly, I felt a horrible pain in my back – it sent tears to my eyes – and I was overcome with exhaustion. Memories flew at me through Eragon of Durza. I collapsed; blackness overtook everything.


	19. Chapter 19: Explanations

When I woke up, I was in a bed. This seemed familiar to me for some reason, and it took me a minute to figure it out. This was the exact same thinking process I'd had after waking up in Horst's house after the Ra'zac tortured Garrow and I. I looked over, and saw Eragon being attended to by Angela. This was just too creepy. I had to get out of here.

I sat up, and Angela noticed that I was awake. She also told me to sit back down. I was too edgy though.

"What happened? Where is everyone? Please tell me!"

Eragon was still unconscious, moving restlessly now and again and burning with a fever. The Shade's memories plagued him. I wished that they'd stay in his mind.

"After Eragon killed the Shade, his magic released the Urgals and they turned on each other. Everyone who is capable is ferreting out the rest of them who escaped into the tunnels. It's mainly the dwarves, as they know the tunnels better than anyone. Arya and Saphira are outside, as well as Murtagh. Now, you tell me what happened."

"Nothing, I just experienced all of Eragon's pain. That's all," I reassured her. She accepted that, and didn't press for answers that were pointless or that I didn't have.

I felt Saphira's conscience brush against mine, and allowed her to watch over Eragon through my eyes. She explained to me about how Arya had helped her get out of her damaged armor, and how she had broken the star sapphire to distract Durza, giving Eragon the opportunity to kill him, and then held the pieces in place so that they wouldn't kill Eragon. I felt a sense of gratitude towards Arya, but that didn't mean I liked the fact that Eragon was smitten with her. I needed to take a walk. Eragon would be fine for the time being.

After getting the ok from Angela, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, where I sagged against the doorway. Saphira snaked her head around, and I grabbed onto one of the spines on her neck, letting her lift me up and stick me on her back. Not much of a walk.

Arya looked at me curiously, as did Murtagh, but neither of them said anything. It was too tense. I wished he'd wake up soon. As soon as he came to, Saphira and I knew. Angela came to the door a few minutes later and let us in. Arya and Murtagh entered first, and I slid off of Saphira to follow after them. I sat back down on the bed I'd woken up on and studied him. He still looked like crap, but at least he was talking. It meant he was alive and not brain-dead.

I was silent as they filled him on what had happened, but watched with growing horror as Eragon tried to flip around and feel his back. Without thinking, I did the same. But there was no such thing as a sympathy scar; just the pain was shared.

"You have paid a terrible price for your deed, Eragon Shadeslayer," Arya said sadly. For someone who kept rejecting my brother's advances, she sure was doing a lot of stuff people did for the ones they loved: risking her life to save him, sharing his pain/sadness, stuff like that. My gratitude was short lived.

Murtagh laughed, but it wasn't happy. "Yes. Now you're just like me."

Murtagh was wrong, though. He wasn't crippled because of his wound. Eragon was.

I looked at Saphira, and she looked back with one of her large sapphire eyes. What were we going to do?


	20. Chapter 20: Disaster

**So we're into Eldest now! If you'll remember, at the bottom of that _Training Field_ I had the websites I wanted to thank? Well, I forgot the most important person: Christopher Paolini! If he hadn't written the series, where would we be now? Definitely not at this chapter! So, a big thank you to Christopher Paolini for the Inheritance Cycle, and all the books from which I can use to help write this fanfic. **

* * *

Three Days after the battle, Eragon wasn't doing much better. He tried to help with the recovery effort, but his back exploded in pain and sent reverberations of pain through Saphira and I. The third time, I told him if he tried one more time, I'd beat him up before his back beat me to it.

Nasuada was pleased with herself. She had been among the archers during the battle, despite the fact that Ajihad had ordered her to go with the women and children. She didn't care that Ajihad was mad at her though, and I'd have felt the same if I was in her position. After all, she did all sorts of other stuff for him, like maneuvering his enemies without letting him find out. Politics was just as deadly as war. Personally, I'd take fighting over politics any day.

Nasuada came running up as I stared at all the dead bodies around me, smiling with excitement.

"Come on, Arianna! My father's coming!"

She grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind her to the gates leading out of Tronjheim. I could tell which tunnel they'd be coming from because of all the lanterns that surrounded it.

After standing there for about twenty five minutes, a vision racked me.

_A group of ten men climbed out onto the ground, then turned and helped up the same number of dwarves. The leader raised his hand, and the warriors assembled behind in two straight lines. A signal was given, and the procession marched forward. Suddenly, the tunnel swarmed with movement as Urgals jumped out and attacked the rear of the men. The rest formed a circle around Ajihad. For a moment, it seemed all would be fine, but then a mist surrounded them. When it cleared, only Ajihad, the Twins, and Murtagh stood. They were converged upon, and they swept back into the tunnel._

I took a deep, shaky breath, and without thinking ran toward the tunnel.

"Arianna!" Nasuada shouted.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me; it was so far away! I saw them come out of the tunnel – I was almost there! As they began to march forward, I shouted to Ajihad.

"Urgals! Urgals!" It was too late; they were already attacking the rear. My sword was at my side. Suddenly, it was in my hand. These were not the Kull that I had had difficulty fighting during the battle. I cut off one of their heads, then whirled around and blocked another attack. My arms caved in under the weight, and I had to jump back in order to avoid cutting myself. One of the Twins blew off an Urgals' arm. Then the mist happened. I couldn't see anything; somehow I ended up in the center of the circle with Ajihad, the Twins, and Murtagh. The Urgals converged upon us. I could see Eragon and Saphira trying to get here in time, and Arya running underneath them.

My breath was knocked out of me as one of the Urgals picked me up and ran with the others back to the tunnel. It was pitch black in the tunnels, until a light suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Illuminated by the light was one of the Twins. I could see the other one beside him. They were smiling cruelly. Murtagh was being hauled by the arms between two Urgals. His head was bleeding from where it had been bandaged before. I barely noticed the large, bottomless pit they were standing by.

"We'll strew some bloody clothes here," the one holding the light announced. The color drained from my face. This could not be happening. Murtagh couldn't believe it either.

"What are you doing? You-"

"Silence!" the other Twin roared. "You will be taken from here and transported to Galbatorix. Enjoy the light of 'day' while you still can."

They approached Murtagh, and took off his tunic and both of his gauntlets. The Twin who was not holding the light took off his purple robe, then cut his hand. He pressed his bleeding palm to the robe, so that it was bloody, then strew them along the chasm. Then he looked at me.

"We didn't expect to have you along, Dragon Rider's sister. Galbatorix will be pleased. Now, what to take from you?" I realized I was still clutching tightly onto my sword. They eyed it, a horrible gleam in their eyes. The twin stepped forward and took it from me, adding it to the collection of items that were strewn there.

"Good," they said together. Looking at the Urgals, they said, "Move!"

The light was extinguished, and they were running. Hurrying back to the one place I didn't ever want to see again.


	21. Chapter 21: Return to Hell

Urû'baen. Oh, the horror of the capital of the Empire. I'd already suffered enough here, and now I was, unwillingly, back for round two. At least this time I wasn't alone. Murtagh was here too. That wasn't much of a comfort though. It might be later; who knows?

Before the Twins brought me before the king, they had me get cleaned up. Why was it that I always had to get clean before I got dirtied up with blood? I was near tears as I moved the bar of soap over my skin and rinsed my hair. I should've alerted them when I had my vision. Why hadn't I done that? I didn't know. My hands were shaking. I stepped out, and was greeted by the sight of a blood red, long-sleeved dress. How wonderful – my blood would blend right in now.

The Twins came for me after I'd finished putting on my dress, and they led me to the throne room. Galbatorix sat at the far end, and looked just as intimidating as he had the first time I'd stepped into this room. The only difference between then and now was that instead of the Ra'zac making me move my legs forward, it was the Twins. And at the end of the room, surrounded by guards and forced on his knees, was Murtagh. His dark eyes connected with mine, and they held there for a minute before I was forced to look at the king. He looked pleased.

"Arianna!" he cried, almost jubilantly. "You've returned to me at last."

Oh yea! Because returning to Galbatorix's dungeon cell was exactly what I'd been hoping for since I was freed from Gil'ead. I'd instantly wanted to get away from my brother and all of the comforts of the Varden and ride as fast I could away from there. Yeah, right. I wasn't sure what he was trying to do, but whatever it was, it wouldn't work.

He turned to one of his guards, much like he had that first day. It was even the same guard. Oh, the irony.

"Fetch one of the maids and set up quarters for the girl."

My mouth dropped. What was going on here? I was supposed to be dragged off to the dungeons, just as soon as he got in a good rant and struck at me. He was acting as if I was some guest of his.

The guard rushed off, and Galbatorix turned his attention away from me and to the Twins.

"You have done well," he told them. They bowed, smiling like idiots. I wanted to smack their smiles off of their faces. Then the king looked at Murtagh, and his expression soured.

"Son of my friend, you have betrayed me. I fed and clothed you, made sure you had a good education, and you threw it all back in my face. What have you to say for yourself?"

Murtagh didn't answer him, and the king signaled something with a wave of his hand. One of the guards holding Murtagh let go with one hand to punch him in the gut. Murtagh made an 'Oof' sound as the air was pushed out, but otherwise made no sound.

"Now, if you were anyone else, I would have you put to death. However, since Morzan was close to me, and you are his son, I will let you live. You're in my debt now. When I decide what I'm going to do with you, I will summon you. Until then, you will be left in the dungeons."

With that, he motioned for them to take him away. He tried to give me a reassuring look as he left, but it didn't help me much. Especially since he had looked puzzled over Galbatorix's instructions when he'd issued them too.

"I haven't forgotten about you, Arianna," he practically crooned. "You will be staying in the quarters nearest mine, where I can keep an eye on you. Fear not, you have no chances of escaping from here, as I've sealed everything in that room. Not even a fly could get in or out of that room." His smile grew wider. "And I know of your abilities with magic too – the Twins were kind enough to mention it to me."

He may as well have punched me in the gut too. I'd been so foolish! Now things could never go back to the way they were here, because he knew. The guard came back, with one of the maids, and dismissed me.

"Come on, Miss," she said kindly.

I thought at first he was trying to win me over by being nice, but now I could guess the real reason. He wanted to monitor me, to try and figure how I acted that way he could figure out my true name. And he had a little more to go with, now that the Twins were there giving him all the details they'd gotten from Eragon about both of us.

The fact that this could have all been avoided if I'd just _said_ something made me sick. I felt worse because I'd doomed not only myself, and possibly Eragon, but Murtagh as well. And he'd just been getting his freedom back.


	22. Chapter 22: Hatchling

Galbatorix finally decided what he wanted to do with Murtagh. I stood in the throne room as he was brought up from the dungeon for the first time since we'd gotten here, nearly a fortnight ago. During that time, Galbatorix had treated me as an equal. I'd been forced to dine with him every evening, to ensure that I was eating my drugged food. No magic for me. It was a shame the king didn't have a dog. If he had one, I could feed it the food. I'd probably get caught though.

I looked Murtagh over. He was in desperate need of a bath, but aside from that looked healthy. He looked at me questioningly, and I shrugged slightly. It wasn't slight enough; the king put a hand on my shoulder and clamped down. I fought to keep my facial expression under control. His nails easily penetrated the soft fabric of the dress to make indentations in my skin.

The king released his hold on me, and I fought the desire to reach up and clutch my shoulder. He focused intently on Murtagh, and I knew he was fighting to break into his mind. Murtagh had been expecting it, either because this was a daily routine or just because he knew how the king was. Unlike when the king tried to break into my mind, though, he was having his men throw in punches here and there to break his concentration. It worked. Pain dominated Murtagh's face, and I moved forward, hand outstretched as if to help him. The guard nearest Galbatorix grabbed me around the waist and held me in place.

They stayed like that for a while, and when it was over, Murtagh collapsed. The guard finally let me rush over to him to make sure he was ok.

"Murtagh?" I didn't get a response. I slapped his face repeatedly; not with any force, but just enough that he could feel it. I couldn't tell if he was breathing or not.

"Sisterly love," Galbatorix uttered. I looked up at him in shock, and I noticed that Murtagh was awake and doing the same thing.

"What?" I asked him sharply.

"Why, didn't you know?" He didn't wait for a response, but plowed right on. "Selena gave birth to both of you. I have two of Morzan's children in my court. Now, if only I could get the other one..." he trailed off, no doubt thinking of the day that he'd capture my brother. The only way that would happen was if he went out and got him himself.

I looked at Murtagh, who looked as surprised as I felt. There was no point in correcting Galbatorix on his assumption of my father though; it was better that he it was Morzan. He'd be looking for traits we had in common, which he wasn't going to find. I didn't have very many similar traits to my mother either, habitually anyway. I looked a lot like her in appearance though, I'd been told.

"Now then, onto the real reason we're here," Galbatorix continued. He motioned to one of his guards, who came hurrying forward with a bright red stone.

It was polished looking, and I knew instantly what it was, because I remembered when Eragon carried its blue replica around after he found it in the Spine. It was a dragon egg. I gazed with horror towards Murtagh, who was dragged forward and forced to touch it.

A few days later, it hatched, producing a tiny red baby dragon. It was about this time that Galbatorix's little army of spell caster's, headed by the Twins, discovered Murtagh's true name, therefore forcing him to do his will. Murtagh named the dragon Thorn. I had a sinking feeling that it would live up to its name.


	23. Chapter 23: The Cruel King

The king began training Murtagh and Thorn. He used a spell to accelerate Thorn's growth, and in a few weeks I imagined that he'd be as big as Saphira had been when I'd first met her.

The king was losing patience with me. He was beginning to return to his original behavior. Not all the time, of course, but during dinner was when it showed the most. He always asked about Eragon, although he knew enough that he could actually start a conversation about Eragon and insert things that he knew. I never participated, and it angered him. He knew that there was information that the Twins had missed – no thanks to Saphira's protection – and he wanted me to be the one to fill him in. That was never going to happen.

It was weird, having two brothers. I'd always thought of myself as the oldest, having been born fifteen minutes before Eragon (it had been a tortuous labor for Selena), and finding out that Murtagh was my older brother almost made me rethink everything I'd known about my mother. _Almost_. I was glad now that I'd had Brom explain things to me about my mother and him. I wished he'd warned me about Murtagh though. I also hoped that Murtagh would keep his mouth shut if he and Eragon met up on the battlefield. I didn't think he would though.

Murtagh had been becoming increasingly worse, attitude wise. He'd always been a bit moody, but this capped all of his previous moods. I'd go to visit him (he had a room now, because Galbatorix could control him), and he'd grunt a response to anything I said.

"How are you?" I'd asked him the other day.

He grunted something and shrugged slightly.

"I hope he's not treating you too badly." I knew he was.

Murtagh shifted a little, uncomfortable, but otherwise remained mute.

"Do you think there's any chance of us getting out of here."

This elicited quite a response from my big brother. His eyes flashed up to meet mine, and he glared at me. His hostility surprised me.

"Don't even think about it," he growled.

"Well why not? There's two of us and a dragon. I realize he's not as old as Saphira, but-"

"It wouldn't work. The last time I escaped, it cost me my best friend and teacher. Who would be killed this time? You? Thorn? It probably wouldn't be me. Just forget about it and try to make the best of things. In fact, it would be better for you if you just gave in now."

What kind of nonsense was he talking about? Give in? Ha! I'd die first.

"I'll never give in. Would you give up your own flesh and blood, Murtagh?"

And suddenly I understood. He _resented_ us. He was angry that our mother had taken us away from this life, and had left him here. If only he knew the whole truth; it would take away some of his pain. But I couldn't – no, I wouldn't tell him.

That was the last conversation I had with him. Galbatorix didn't make him attend dinner with us. Not until the worst night of my life, at any rate.

I sat in my usual place at Galbatorix's right-hand side, and ate my food in silence. I could feel Galbatorix's hostility rolling off in waves. Out of nowhere, I was struck in the face. I almost choked on my meat; it was forced out by a blow to the back. He forced me, in this manner to his chambers. What he did next, I will not say in detail. He "deflowered" me, if you will. In simpler terms, my virginity was stolen. When he was finished, he rolled off promptly fell asleep. I lay awake with my eyes wide open, and a horrific vision struck me.

_I was soaked with sweat. One of Galbatorix's nurses murmured kind words to me..._

The vision fast forwarded to the horrible part: I stared down at Galbatorix's twin children – my twin children. A boy stared up at me from one arm, a little girl from the other. A green dragon hatchling sat by my side.


	24. Chapter 24: A Way Out

The next morning, Galbatorix had me stand at his side while he presided over Murtagh and Thorn. I wasn't sure what my face looked like, but Murtagh must've realized that something wasn't right; he faltered a few times in his 'lessons' and Galbatorix attacked him with magic.

Murtagh was strong in magic. I had no doubt that he inherited his father's skill. The sad part was that people were sure to put two and two together. It would more than likely start a stir in the people of the Varden who had fought at his side during the battle outside of Tronjheim. A small part of me hoped that Galbatorix would kill Murtagh so that Eragon would never have to find out anything. It was only a small part though, and I instantly felt bad about thinking it. After all, it wasn't Murtagh's fault.

Once Galbatorix was done beating up Murtagh, he dismissed us. I fled the throne room as fast as I could, eager to put as much distance as I possibly could between him and me. It didn't take long for Murtagh to catch up. Thorn dawdled not too far behind.

"What's wrong?"

It was the first time he'd ever asked about my wellbeing. I was touched. It was just way down deep where I couldn't feel at the moment. For some reason I didn't understand, my strong will broke. I was hysterical. Murtagh put his arms hesitantly around me so that I wouldn't fall, and I placed my head on his chest.

There was no shortage of tears. I cried about everything. I cried for Garrow and Brom, for all the men and dwarves that were killed by the Urgals, and for Eragon and Saphira. But most of all, I cried for Murtagh and I: the two unluckiest people in this whole mess. And of course, I cried for our dragons. Mine, unhatched for the time being, and Thorn. I hoped Galbatorix didn't get the idea in his head to have me hang out with the last egg. That would ruin everything.

"Did he...?" He didn't have to say the word in order for me to grasp his meaning. I just nodded my head, and he tightened his grip. There was no more hesitation.

Then one day, Galbatorix did the thing I least expected. He showed me how he was so powerful. Well, more like he bragged about how he was so powerful. He showed Murtagh and I together. Thorn looked around in wonder as Galbatorix showed us the ancient dragons. No, they weren't actually there in form; I couldn't bring myself to remember the name for them. I just wanted to run, and keep running.

My chance finally came. One of his nurses had taken a liking to me. She felt horrible about how Galbatorix treated me. She remembered me from when I was here before, and she heard Galbatorix yelling at me almost every night. So she wanted to get me out. She enlisted Murtagh to help. I only needed him for one thing.

"Murtagh, get the last egg."

He looked confused. "Why-?"

"It's mine! It's going to hatch, and I don't want it anywhere near Galbatorix. He's been here too long. I can't risk leaving him."

"So you can help Eragon bring me down?" he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

"You know me better than that," I told him. I'd do anything I could to help get him out of here. If only I knew how.

He reluctantly agreed. The last thing I did was to go back to the dragon room. I wasn't worried about running into Galbatorix in the middle of the night; he was a heavy sleeper.

There was one Eldunarí that had called out to me in a vision, and it was he whom I would rescue. I found Vanilor easily enough. He had been a majestic, gold dragon, and his Eldunarí matched.

"Come on you," I muttered as I picked him up. I gasped and nearly dropped him; I felt all of his emotions and thoughts at once. It was like a preview for what I was in for when my dragon hatched and matured a little bit.

_Thank you, little one_.

_You're welcome_.

I covered him up with a part of my robe and rushed out of the room and towards the designated meeting place. Murtagh was there waiting for me, holding something wrapped up in a sack. _The last dragon egg_.

"Thank you," I whispered, voice fervent with gratitude. His eyes softened slightly.

"Now go, before somebody sees you. There's a horse in outside the gate waiting. Run!"

Without looking back, I ran for the gate and slipped outside. The nurse was the distraction; she talked and flirted with the guards near the tower so they wouldn't see anything. The horse was right where Murtagh had said it would be, and I wasted no time in vaulting up and rushing off.

I knew where I had to go, and it frightened me: Ellesméra.


	25. Chapter 25: Ellesméra

I was hot, and I was thirsty. But mostly, I was hungry. Returning to the Hadarac Desert was not something I'd been looking forward to, but it was necessary in order to reach my destination. Arriving in my current state, under the current conditions, it might be my final destination. How ironic that would be. To escape from the king and be murdered by the elves, my allies.

It had taken me nearly a week to reach this point in my journey, but I hadn't needed to cross the Ramr River again, because Urû'baen was already on the side where I needed to be. It was all just a matter of trekking northward and finding some trees. Then I'd know I was at Du Waldenvarden, and from there I'd rely on Vanilor for directions.

I'd looked at my dragon egg once, and I hoped it wouldn't hatch until we reached the elves. I could barely get enough food for the horse and I, and he'd be too little to hunt for himself when he hatched. Murtagh had given me little provisions, both because of the limited time in which he had to gather things together and the fact that for the most part the food was pretty well guarded. The nurse, whose name had been Mira, had gotten me a few canteens of water for the horse and I. What little meat there had been had already been devoured, and now I was on my last loaf of bread. Things weren't looking so good.

It surprised me, then, when I stumbled across some trees. Apparently, I'd traveled farther than I'd thought.

_Welcome to Du Waldenvarden, Arianna_.

Vanilor's thoughts drowned out everything else. I felt all of his relief and happiness at finally getting back. It was more potent than what I'd felt when I rescued him. Of course, he probably thought I wouldn't make it this far, and didn't want to get all of his hopes up.

I made a little camp, and tied the horse, whom I had named Moi, the word in the ancient language for 'change', to one of the smaller tree branches. I didn't want her to run away, but I didn't want her to be unable to flee if it was necessary either. This way, if she pulled, the branch would stop her, but if she started to bolt, the branch would break.

We weren't even there for five minutes when the peace was disturbed. Two elves, one with light hair, the other with dark hair, descended gracefully, as elves tend to do, from the trees above us. I hadn't bothered to check the area for other beings; I'd been too tired and was in a hurry to eat. They were both male, and they advanced upon me quickly. Vanilor was beside me, but they didn't notice, and even if they had, they wouldn't have thought anything of it. I'm sure only the riders knew of the Elundarí's existence.

"Eka fricai!" I am a friend!

They hesitated, and I took this as a good sign. Keeping my hands in their sight, I slowly opened my mouth to continue speaking.

"Please, I must speak with Islanzadí. It's a matter of life and death," I said in the ancient language.

My knowledge of the ancient language prompted them to lower the weapons completely and regard me in a new manner. Finally, the one with light hair spoke.

"We will take you to her, but you will be blindfolded until we arrive, and then the queen shall decide what to do with you."

"My things?" I gestured, panicky, toward Vanilor and the egg. The egg was wrapped, Vanilor sat on his cover.

"You may carry them on the horse."

So it was that I was blindfolded, stuck up on Moi, and led off. I didn't get any food or sleep, and we traveled quickly. When we got to a spot that was more open, they called horses for themselves, and one of them grabbed the reins and urged Moi along.

It still took a long time to reach Ellesméra. I assumed we had arrived because we stopped, and a few seconds later I was helped down out of the saddle. Then I was led somewhere, and it felt like I was going down an aisle. We stopped, and the elf who had spoken to me talked with a woman. After a moment, my blindfold was taken off, and I took in the awe inspiring sight of Islanzadí. For some reason, she reminded me of Arya. How odd.

"What business do you have here, human?" she asked in my own tongue.

I had no doubt that Eragon and Saphira were here, for I could see Arya from where I was standing.

"Arianna!" she cried out in surprise.

"Arya," I replied, inclining my head a bit.

The queen looked surprised. "You know each other?"

"She is Eragon's sister, mother."

That would explain the resemblance. Ha ha, another barrier for my dear brother to try and work around.

Arya turned from her mother to look at me.

"I thought you were dead. We found your sword among the belongings strewn beside the abyss."

I explained, slowly at first, everything that had happened until I'd arrived here. I left out the painful stuff, and the fact that I had Vanilor with me. I also kept the fact that Thorn had hatched for Murtagh from them as well. It was not important right now for them to know. They'd find out soon enough. Besides, it would only hurt Eragon to know the truth.

In the silence that followed, a loud, piercing squeak filled the air. Everyone looked around, and I looked down at the egg. It squeaked again. Now everyone was looking at it.

"Is that a...?" Arya couldn't finish her sentence. Everyone knew what it was.

"How...?" The queen began. "How did you get the egg out?"

I didn't answer. At that moment, the doors were thrown open, and Eragon and Saphira came barreling down towards us.

"Arianna, you're alive!" my brother cried out.

Saphira snorted, then stopped dead in her tracks. One last squeak filled the air, and then it fell silent. Eragon gaped at me.

"Is that a..." How cute. He sounded just like Arya.

"Yes, Eragon, it's a dragon egg."

Saphira moved closer and inspected it.

_How soon will it hatch?_

_I don't know. Ask Eragon._

I was watching the egg intently.

_A few more minutes_, Saphira said.

It didn't take long. It began to squeak and shudder, rocking back and forth on the ground. A crack appeared, then another and another. They all met up on the top, and the top piece lifted up, and a small, dark head popped up, followed by its body. I'd seen this spectacle before, when Murtagh's dragon had hatched. It seemed more significant this time. It waddled a little ways away to get the casing off of itself.

Everyone in the room seemed to be holding their breath. It's green scales sparkled, and it's little head bobbed back and forth. He turned his head to look at me with a bright green eye, and then came to see me. I reached out, and he nuzzled my hand. I was shocked when a blast of icy energy surged into my hand and raced up my arm, and I fell backwards with a cry. Eragon caught a hold of me, and looked at me with concern. My whole body was in pain, before warmth seeped slowly back into my limbs. I was freezing, and I looked at my hand curiously as the gedwëy ignasia formed on my palm. I could feel his consciousness, and I sensed he was curious. He was also hungry.

"Can we get him some food?" I asked, looking around at everyone in front of me.

"Of course," Islanzadí said, regainging her composure. "Right this way."

I plucked up my little dragon and followed her lead. Looked like I'd been accepted after all.

**Sorry to sort of blow through their traveling through the forest thing. In the book, it takes Eragon and everyone he was with three or four days to get there. I didn't want to waste time writing about it, so I sped up the time a bit. **


	26. Chapter 26: Briam

A few days passed. I named the little dragon Briam. The name reminded me of Brom. Saphira followed him around all the time, when she wasn't training with Eragon, of course. I had met with Glaedr and Oromis after swearing never to speak of it in the ancient language to Islanzadí. Eragon had only been in Ellesméra for a few days before I arrived. Oromis began to teach me the Rimgar, but soon realized it was unnecessary, as I'd learned it growing up. He made me do the level four every day though, both because I hadn't ever been excellent at it and it was good for me.

As of right now, no one knew about my pregnancy, except for Briam, and being so young he didn't really know what that meant. I tried to show him mental pictures of babies, but he wasn't interested.

He liked attention, (it was something he thrived on) food, water, and his bed. The fact that all the elves and Saphira coddled him all the time wasn't helping. Saphira got food for him, since no one else would hunt for any reason, and even Glaedr seemed fond of him.

The second day that I had been in Ellesméra, a violent wind storm had assaulted the city. Briam and I were staying in another of the trees with space enough for a dragon, although Briam didn't need all the space quite yet, right next door to the one Eragon and Saphira had. The one that Vrael and his dragon had lived in.

It happened that the storm woke me, but Briam dozed on, undisturbed by all the howling that the wind was doing. I was confused for a moment, but afterwards realized what was going on and decided to try and fall back asleep. It was about that point in time when I saw, heard, and felt Eragon having another back spasm. I cried out, writhing in agony that I shouldn't have had, and fell back against the bed, curling into the fetal position as darkness took me.

When I woke, Briam was hopping around on the bed in front of me. He sent a mental image of red, for pain, and I shook my head. The pain was gone. There was a gross taste in my mouth, and I was kind of sore, but there wasn't any real pain. It wasn't light out yet, and the wind was still blowing, but I couldn't sleep. Apparently, neither could Briam. He did, however, want some food. Luckily, Saphira had stocked up, and I'd put it downstairs after uttering a few select words from the ancient language to keep it from rotting right away.

I plucked Briam up and headed down. It took longer than usual because I felt extremely weak, as if I was going to fall over at any moment, but I made it eventually. The meat was right where I'd left it, and I scooped some up and fed it to Briam. He gobbled it up quickly, and said his first word.

_Arianna_.

Rather, his first thought, but dragons speak with their minds, so it could be both in this instance. Hearing him say my name was strange. I didn't know how to respond to him, but I didn't want to ignore him, so I said his name back.

_Briam_.

Briam and I's bond grew stronger, and he began to speak more. His thirst for knowledge was never satisfied, and yet at other times it seemed like he read more into things than I'd thought was possible.

We both agreed that I should tell Oromis about what had happened in Urû'baen. I wanted someone by my side who had a good standing with the queen before I told her, and it certainly wasn't going to be my brother.


	27. Chapter 27: Decision

I walked slowly up the hill to the house where Oromis lived with Briam, trying to figure out how to begin my tragic tale. Or at least the part about how I'm carrying the evilest man in Alagaësia's children. It wasn't my fault, everyone would be forced to admit, but the fact was that I was carrying some dangerous kids. If Galbatorix found out, he'd send out a search party. If he managed to get his hands on them, they'd be raised to become formidable enemies. If I was found, he'd probably kill me. I'd already escaped twice; he wouldn't stand for a third.

When I reached the crest of the hill, I saw that Oromis was sitting outside, and Eragon was nowhere to be found. I assumed that Saphira was with Glaedr. Oromis seemed surprised to see me.

"Oromis-elda," I said in greeting.

"Arianna," he replied in kind.

I stood there, feeling awkward, while he waited patiently for me to begin speaking. He knew there must've been a reason for my visit. There was still much I could learn from him, I was sure, but I did not wish to learn at this point in time.

"You know of my imprisonment in Urû'baen?" I asked, pointlessly really. It was the only way I could think of to start talking.

"Yes...What's going on Arianna?"

I began, stuttering most of the time and never looking him in the eyes, to explain what had happened to me during the time I had last spent with Galbatorix. I could see his eyes widening through Briam's eyes as the meaning of what I was saying was sinking in. Before I finished, he was on his feet clutching my shoulders. Not roughly, just sort of holding them. I was crying. I felt so ashamed of myself. I should've been stronger than that. I should've been strong enough to resist Galbatorix. But I wasn't.

"Have you told Islanzadí?"

I shook my head no as another tear leaked out of the corner of my eye. He stood still for a moment, and about five minutes later Eragon came running over. He took one look at me and realized something was wrong. He quickly voiced this thought.

"What's wrong?"

I didn't answer him, for at that moment, there was a loud _thud_ sound as the wind was whipped around and Glaedr and Saphira landed in the clearing. Saphira looked as confused as Eragon, but Glaedr, who was exposed to Oromis' thoughts, understood why the lessons had been cancelled early.

"Come on," he told me, quietly leading me back down the hill. Eragon and Saphira followed behind Glaedr. I doubted that anyone was going to be filling them in. They'd find out when the queen did. When we made it down the hill, Oromis angled himself towards the queen's hall. The elves stopped what they were doing to watch us go by. It probably was quite the sight – The oldest dragon rider lugging me along, with his dragon and Eragon and Saphira following his lead. If I had looked, I would've noticed that Briam was sitting on Glaedr's back, looking at everyone from the highest perch he'd ever been on. Except for the tree, of course, but that was different.

We arrived soon enough, and the queen was assembled with all of her lords and ladies. Arya was present also.

"I wish to speak with Islanzadí in a private council," Oromis said firmly. Those who were sitting in the chairs against the walls looked affronted, but didn't dare argue. They stood and left. Only Islanzadí and Arya remained. If it was up to me, I'd kick Arya out too.

"What is this all about, Oromis?" Islanzadí asked. Her melodic voice covered up the harsh note to it. She eyed me carefully, but didn't comment on my appearance.

Oromis told her the basics of what I'd told him, and I watched her and Arya's reactions. They were the same as Oromis' had been. Behind me, I heard Eragon suck in a breath, and Saphira snorted angrily. My shoulder got singed a little.

"I'll kill him," Eragon mumbled under his breath.

He didn't know the half of it. He was going to kill him for a number of reasons. Murtagh was another reason. His best friend, and half brother.

"This is bad news indeed," Islanzadí said, as she stood. She began pacing, and everyone's eyes, I was sure, were rooted to her movements.

"You'll have to stay here until they're born. The girl we might be able to allow to live, but the boy...the boy must be killed."

I winced.

"The last dragon egg might hatch for him. We can't allow that to happen. You will go nowhere without an escort, and you mustn't tell anyone how this pregnancy occurred. It would be dangerous indeed if the elves were to know of this treachery."

She seemed to notice my reactions for the first time, and her face softened slightly.

"I am sorry, Arianna, to seem so harsh and distanced, but this is the only way that the events can go. I'm sure you know that it would be extremely bad if Galbatorix were to get his hands on these children, especially the boy. We can't risk having him grow up to follow in his father's footsteps."

This elicited a strong response from Eragon.

"Murtagh was Morzan's son, but he didn't follow in his father's footsteps."

The queen acted as if she hadn't heard what he said. Arya looked at him with sorrowful eyes. I wanted to hit her. Right now, we weren't talking about Eragon. We were talking about me and my problems. If she was just going to stare at him with 'I'm so sorry about your problems' eyes, and he was just going to relate back to himself, then neither one of them should be here.

"Why don't you two just get out, since all you can focus on is yourselves and your own emotions." I said angrily.

They looked shocked that I would even make such a suggestion, but after thinking about it, hung their heads in shame and mumbled an apology.

"Just get out!"

They left quickly. Saphira stared after them, but didn't move. She looked as if she was gloating about something. She probably was.

"Calm yourself, child," Islanzadí said softly. I took a deep breath, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth. I had felt calmer after watching those two leave.

"So, you understand what is to take place?"

"No going anywhere without an escort, no speaking of how the pregnancy happened, and I'm to give up my son for death when he's born."

I tried to imagine life without Eragon. It was true that it would be a lot simpler, but it would be incomplete. Was that what I was dooming my daughter to? Or would it not matter, since she wouldn't ever get to know him? He'd never grow up enough to develop a personality of his own, never learn the alphabet, how to read, how to fight or get to play with other children his age.

More tears welled up in my eyes. Was I willing to give up my son, even though it was the "right" thing to do? I wasn't sure, but I was leaning towards no.


	28. Chapter 28: Vanilor

While I was busy telling secrets, I figured I might as well tell Oromis about Vanilor too. When we left Islanzadí's presence, I told Oromis that I would be right back.

"Didn't you just agree that you weren't to go anywhere without an escort?" he asked me, a stern look on his face.

"Oh yeah," I murmured. It hadn't taken me long to forget that particular agreement. Luckily, Saphira elected to go with me.

_Thank you_.

_We owe you_.

I didn't bother asking her what she meant by that, but continued on towards the tree. I realized when I got there that Briam wasn't with me. He must've stayed with Glaedr. It bothered me for some reason that I couldn't properly explain. I knew he was safe with Glaedr and Oromis, yet I didn't like having him out of my sight. Maybe I was just experiencing weird premature motherly feelings due to my pregnancy. It wasn't much of a pregnancy right now though, since it barely showed.

I hurried upstairs and dashed under my bed to find the Eldunarí. My impatience was soaring today, it seemed, but I was rewarded when I felt the familiar texture of the sack that I kept it in. Very carefully, I maneuvered it out and cradled it against my chest.

Saphira looked at me suspiciously, but didn't comment.

_Get on my back_, she told me.

I did so, and she flew out of the open area and soared over Ellesméra towards Oromis' house. Glaedr's scales were the first thing that caught my eye as we landed.

When I got off, Saphira nudged my shoulder with her giant head and said, _I must find Eragon. Don't think of them too harshly_, she added. _They can't help it_.

Yes, they can't help that their star-struck lovers, I was aware. That didn't give them the right to be self-centered during my time of crisis though.

Before I could tell her all of that, she spread her wings and took flight. I turned towards Oromis and Glaedr. With relief, I spotted Briam nestled on Glaedr's back, sleeping like a baby. Maybe that's why I felt so protective. Soon though, I wouldn't have to feel that way anymore.

"While I was in Urû'baen, I also discovered how Galbatorix was so powerful." I said quietly.

Oromis and Glaedr eyed my sack as soon as the words came out of my mouth.

"Is that what I think it is, Arianna?" Oromis asked me.

_A heart of hearts? _Glaedr added.

I wasn't sure what a heart of hearts was, but I was guessing it was the same as an Eldunarí.

Slowly and carefully, I pulled the cloth off of Vanilor. It sparkled in the sunlight, and I felt him immediately. Briam was awake now.

"Do you know which ancient it is?"

"His name is Vanilor," I told him. His eyes grew huge; even Glaedr's, which were already huge, managed to widen up a little more.

_Vanilor! He and his master were the ones who taught us!_

"How did you get him out?"

I explained my detour to him.

"That was very brave, and very stupid," he told me. "Now Galbatorix will have yet another thing to hate you for. You stole his dragon egg, one of the Eldunarí...You're going to be lucky if he doesn't find out about your pregnancy and hate you for that too."

He could hate me for whatever he wanted in my opinion. I understood why Oromis was concerned though – I was going to be a bigger target even than Eragon. I may as well draw a big target sign on my forehead and construct a nametag that says, "Hi! I'm Arianna. You'd better arrest me quick and take me to the king." I wondered briefly if there were wanted posters for Eragon and I, and if so, how much we were worth.

Briam basically fell off of Glaedr to come and see Vanilor. He sniffed at the Eldunarí, then snorted and shook his head. I sensed that the strongest emotion he felt was an alienness. He didn't understand how that egg shaped thing could possibly contain an old dragon. I'd explain it to him later.

"Would you like to speak with him?" I asked Oromis.

"Yes," he muttered, reaching out towards the Eldunarí. He cradled it to his chest like a precious gem. There was no need for Glaedr to crowd around it, since he was getting everything through Oromis. I stood there for nearly an hour while they silently talked with him. It was about then that Oromis happened to glance up and notice the tired look on my face, and the fact that the sun was beginning to set.

"Oh, Arianna, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that we'd been keeping you so long." With an almost regretful look, he handed Vanilor back to me. I wrapped him back up.

"Have a good night, Arianna. Take good care of him!" I nodded sleepily and headed off. No one said anything about the lack of an escort. I wondered if Oromis had forgotten, but realized that he hadn't when I reached the bottom of the hill and was greeted by an elf.

"I was told by Oromis-elda to escort you back to your quarters." It sounded more like a question. I nodded, and led the way home. When I arrived, I'd nearly forgotten about the elf. I remembered in time to whip around and say "Thank you," as she began to leave. She raised her hand in response and continued on her way.

I had planned on going inside and going straight to bed. It was funny how things never worked out the way you wanted them to. When I opened the door and went inside, I found Arya standing across the room, looking out the window. She turned at the sound of the door.

"Arianna!" she cried, as if we were the best of friends. "How are you?"

"Fine," I answered tersely.

A hurt expression crossed her features, but disappeared just as quickly.

"I came to apologize for my actions earlier today," she told me sincerely. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't just stay mad at her when she apologized and risk offending the queen. So I did the only thing I could do – I accepted the apology quickly and gracefully, so as not to appear like an ingrate.

"It's ok," I told her. Her facial expression cleared, and she beamed at me.

"Wonderful! Would you like to go for a walk?"

I'd love to do anything but go on a walk with her, but her status couldn't be ignored. So I agreed, once again. It wasn't as horrible as I'd imagined, but that didn't mean I enjoyed spending time with her.

For the first time, Briam laughed.

_What?_ I snapped at him.

_Nothing_, he replied. He laughed again, and I threw a quill that was on my nightstand at him, rolled over, and fell into an uneasy sleep.


	29. Chapter 29: Vanir

The next morning, I awoke early and noted with a wry smile Orik sneaking out of Eragon's dwelling. It was a wonder I'd gotten any sleep at all with Orik making so much racket. Alright, so maybe that was an exaggeration, but still, it was Saphira and I that Eragon complained to when Orik nearly fell over, and when he had to wrestle him into bed. He seemed perfectly fine this morning, though.

Briam remained asleep for another hour, and I picked him up when I noticed Eragon and Saphira outside. I went outside and joined them.

"What are we waiting for?" I asked.

"Oromis wants me to spar with an elf for an hour every morning before starting my lessons with him." Eragon replied. Saphira didn't say anything, but I was sure that she was concerned about his back. He wasn't standing straight anymore, and I wondered if he even could.

We stood there for about ten minutes before an elf with black hair arrived. Eragon and the elf exchanged the Elvish greeting, and the elf turned to me, bowing in the same manner as he had to Eragon and initiating the greeting.

"May good fortune rule over you."

"And may the stars watch over you," I responded. Eragon had given me the rundown of the elves etiquette a few days after I'd arrived, and Oromis had helped to explain what Eragon couldn't. It was quite the daunting memorization task.

"Did Oromis send you?" Eragon asked him.

He didn't get a response. Instead, the elf turned to Saphira.

"Well met, dragon. I am Vanir of House of Haldthin."

_Well met, Vanir_. Eragon scowled with annoyance. I hid a smile.

Just then, Briam stirred and yawned, opening his eyes. An expression of awe washed over the elf, and he reached out to touch him. Briam's reaction surprised me. He'd always been one to lap up the attention. Instead, he snapped at him. Vanir jerked his hand away, and turned stiffly back to Eragon.

"I will show you where you may practice with your blade."

He strode away, not waiting for us to catch up. The sparring yard was amazing. Elves, both male and female, dotted the area and fought in pairs and groups. It sounded like bursts of hail striking an iron bell every time their blades met. Underneath the trees that fringed the yard, there were elves performing the Rimgar with more grace and flexibility than I'd known was possible. I thought I'd been pretty good until I saw all of them doing it.

Everyone on the field stopped and bowed to Saphira and Briam. Then Vanir unsheathed his narrow blade and once again spoke words to Eragon.

"If you will guard your sword, Silver Hand, we can begin."

I watched Eragon as he prepared Zar'roc, and realized that he must've been having a conversation with Saphira, because she was staring at him intently. Then he began his sparring with Vanir. It was horrible; he wasn't even sparring, he was just warding him off, and he wasn't doing a very good job at it either. Vanir touched him four times in rapid succession, then danced forward and wrenched Zar'roc from Eragon's hand. Vanir dropped his sword onto Eragon's neck and said, "Dead." I stiffened, as did Saphira, and we watched intently as Eragon went to retrieve his sword. Briam was growling lowly and sitting up as far as he could in my arms. I stuck him on Saphira's back, and he crawled all the way up to her shoulder and perched there.

"Dead," Vanir repeated. "How do you expect to defeat Galbatorix like this? I expected better, even from a weakling human."

"Then why don't you fight Galbatorix yourself instead of hiding in Du Waldenvarden?" Eragon retorted.

Vanir stiffened, outraged. "Because I'm not a Rider. And if I were, I would not be such a coward as you." His voice was cool and haughty. Everyone was still and silent on the field.

"Coward, I say. Your blood is as thin as the rest of your race's. I think that Saphira was confused by Galbatorix's wiles and made the wrong choice of Rider." He may as well have insulted Briam while he was at it, and Thorn, though none knew of his existence. All three hatchlings chose humans as their Riders'.

The elves that were watching gasped and muttered among themselves with open disapproval for his words. Saphira started forward, but Eragon beat her to it by throwing his sword as hard as he could at Vanir. Eragon then drove Vanir to the center of the field, jabbing and slashing like there was no tomorrow. I sensed that his back wouldn't take this kind of abuse for much longer.

"Eragon, stop-" Too late. I stiffened as the pain rushed up my back, and uttered words in the ancient language to stop the shared pain. I had to remember to put wards around me to protect me from his pain. He fell to the ground in agony, and Vanir stood over him with a sneer.

When the seizure was done, he wiped the blood from his mouth and showed it to Vanir.

"Thin enough?"

Vanir sheathed his sword and began to walk away.

"Where are you going? We have unfinished business, you and I." Eragon told him.

"You are in no fit condition to spar," Vanir scoffed. I had to agree with him.

"Try me," was his only reply.

"Eragon," I said. He ignored me, focused only on Vanir and his getting even streak. That couldn't happen though, because they _weren't_ even on any standings.

When Oromis's assigned hour was complete, Saphira marched up to Vanir and touched him on the chest with the point of one of her ivory talons.

_Dead_, she said.

Vanir paled, and the other elves edged away from him. I hurried to Eragon's side, but he clambered up onto Saphira's back and rode away. I turned to Vanir, "You would do well to keep your words cordial," I said stiffly. "Could you survive the same attack from a Shade?"

I didn't wait around for an answer. As we left, Briam growled at him.

_What's the matter with you today? You tried to bite him _before_ we knew what a complete jerk he was._

_I just didn't like him. There was a quality about him that I couldn't figure out, but I just didn't like it. Now I can see that my initial reaction was correct. Our instincts are the things that keep us alive, after all._

His knowledge surprised me, but it shouldn't have. After all, dragons are unpredictable, right?


	30. Chapter 30: Picture Perfect

I hiked up the hill with Briam on the way to see Oromis. I arrived just as he was explaining the Ra'zac's history to Eragon.

"Are their parents called the Ra'zac too?" my brother asked.

Oromis shook his head. "Lethrblaka, we named them. And whereas their offspring are narrow-minded, if cunning, Lethrblaka have all the intelligence of a dragon. A cruel, vicious, and twisted dragon."

I shuddered. All of this talk of the Ra'zac was making my skin crawl. I recounted the horrible days I'd spent with the Ra'zac traveling to the capital. I didn't miss those days at all. My thoughts turned to the last time I'd been dragged there, with Murtagh by the Twins, and I tried unsuccessfully to block out the memories, but to no avail. I wished sometimes that the Twins had gone ahead and pushed me into that dark abyss that seemed never-ending when they'd strewn my sword among the other belongings on its edge. But then I would never have met the elves, or gotten Briam to hatch for me. I wondered if Briam would have hatched if I had died. Probably eventually, I decided.

"Where do they come from?"

"From whatever land your ancestors abandoned," Oromis replied. "Their depredations may have been what forced King Palancar to emigrate. When we, the Riders, became aware of the Ra'zac's foul presence in Alagaësia, we did our best to eradicate them, as we would leaf blight. Unfortunately, we were only partially successful. Two Lethrblaka escaped, and they along with their pupae are the ones who have caused you so much grief. After he killed Vrael, Galbatorix sought them out and bargained for their services in return for his protection and a guaranteed amount of their favorite food. That is why Galbatorix allows them to live by Dras-Leona, one of the Empire's largest cities."

I saw Eragon's jaw tighten. It was probably the only response lately that had been appropriate. I thought of Garrow. _At least they didn't make a meal out of him_. That I would not have been able to endure. I was probably lucky they didn't decide to make a meal out of me either; I remembered them clucking to themselves on more than one occasion and glancing at me funny. It had always been the larger one that ended the conversations, and the smaller one that initiated them. If I was to understand their cluckings correctly, the small one probably had wanted to eat me, and the bigger one told him off because they had different orders.

"They have much to answer for," Eragon said stiffly.

"That they do." Oromis responded in kind.

At that point, Oromis went back inside the hut, then came back out carrying a half-dozen slate tablets about a half-foot wide and a foot high.

"Fairths!" I cried out in excitement.

Oromis turned to look at me in surprise, while Eragon looked confused. He handed Eragon a tablet.

"I thought you might enjoy learning how to make a fairth. It is an excellent device for focusing your thoughts. The slate is impregnated with enough ink to cover it with any combination of colors. All you need to do is concentrate upon the image that you wish to capture and then say, 'Let that which I see in my mind's eye be replicated on the surface of this tablet.' But how did you know about Fairths, Arianna?"

I smiled, "Brom taught me. We used to make them all the time. He used to complain because I used up all of his tablets, but eventually he just 'harrumphed' around, and after some more time he didn't say anything at all." In fact, after many years he began to enjoy watching me make my fairths.

"I made a lot of them. Before the Ra'zac came to town, I did one of you, Eragon, and Roran, Garrow, and Brom." I'd hidden them all in a sack that I'd made fireproof, and prayed that they were still there. Hopefully I could get them back someday.

"Well that's good. Here," he handed me a tablet. "Amuse yourself." He gestured at the clearing, "Look about you, Eragon, and find something worth preserving."

I sat down near Oromis, examining him. His silver hair glinted in the sunlight, and on his face, instead of his usual compassion and sadness that usually lingered there, he watched Eragon with curious eyes. I focused that image in my mind, and said the words in the ancient language. I watched, fascinated, as the colors came alive and began painting Oromis. His face was the clearest thing; everything else was sort of dimmed in comparison. Oh well, it had been a long time since I'd done one. Eragon's was comical. Most of it looked as if he'd been looking at it with his eyes half open. It could've been true. Then again, it was his first fairth. Oromis told Eragon his opinion, and was just about to tell him to try again when a cry of "Hail, Rider!" cracked through the air. It was Orik, with Arya walking beside him.

After everything was explained and sorted out, it was decided that Eragon would go on with his lesson, and Orik and Arya could stay. She was already causing him to lose focus, and she hadn't even spoken to him. I almost hit him. After a few minutes of looking at nothing, he said the words. What was he doing it on, the grass? He stared at it for a minute, gaping. Maybe he was suffering from a stroke.

"What have you wrought, Eragon?" Oromis asked him.

"I...I don't know."

My patience burst. "What do you mean you don't know?" I walked over quickly to look. "You made it, so-" I cut myself off as I looked at it. It was Arya, and it showed every feeling he felt about her. No wonder he looked at it for a minute and didn't want to show anyone.

I stood aside and let him pass it to Oromis. Oromis's expression grew stern as he looked at it, then back at Eragon before handing it wordlessly to Arya. Her hair obscured her face as she looked at it, but I could imagine that she was not pleased by the fairth. After she smashed it on the ground, I figured I was correct in my assumption.

My feelings were mixed; on the one hand, I was glad that she was pushing my brother away (even though I knew that she had feelings for him too), but on the other hand Eragon was my brother, and I didn't want to see him hurt.

While I was contemplating which reaction would receive the most attention, Orik left after Oromis told him to come back tomorrow or the day after. Then Oromis lifted the hem of his tunic, knelt, and began to gather up the remnants of the tablet. I picked up some of the pieces that had gone astray and handed them over to Oromis. My fairth was propped up where I'd left it, and he noticed it for the first time, but didn't ask about it because Eragon started talking. Rather, he began to ask questions.

"Why?"

I listened and tried not to let the strange giddiness I felt show as Oromis explained how the fairth had showed Arya the true depth of his infatuation, how it placed her in a difficult situation, and how he is a Rider and that his infatuation placed everyone in an awkward position and jeopardized everything they'd worked for.

Briam flicked his tail and hummed, much like Saphira was always doing, and I picked him up. Oromis and Eragon went into the house, and I began to head down the hill. Oromis poked his head out quickly, and said sharply, "Arianna! What did Islanzadí tell you about going anywhere?"

Oh yeah, I didn't have an escort.

"Can't she assign me an escort or something? This is getting ridiculous." I shouldn't have to hang around just because I didn't have someone to my tree.

"I'll get someone to do it tomorrow. You can go for now."

Relieved, I flashed him a grin and smiled. I suddenly remembered my fairth, and I plucked it up before I left.

**Sorry it's a little late. I had most of the chapter written, but I couldn't finish it because my dad came to pick me up, and then we went out to dinner and stuff. Anyway, hope you guys liked it!**


	31. Chapter 31: Neneel

The next morning when I awoke, Briam was nowhere to be found. Alarmed, I rushed down the stairs and out the door. I exhaled with relief, and tried to keep my anger in check. He was with a dark haired elf, who was smiling and giving him all sorts of attention. He was soaking it up, and humming contentedly.

_Do you have to scare me like that?_

_You could've just asked_, he sniffed. Yes, sniffed. I think he should've been a girl dragon.

_You're just jealous because you don't get nearly as much attention as I do._

_Yes, you're right. That's exactly what my problem is_.

_Sarcastic much_?

I ignored him, and turned to look at the visitor.

"Where is your Rider?" she murmured to Briam.

He raised an emerald eye to look at me, and she followed his gaze. Upon seeing me, she stood upright and touched her fingers to her lips, initiating the all too familiar greeting. Once the familiarities were out of the way, she spoke freely.

"I am Neneel; Oromis-elda sent me. I am to escort you to wherever you need to go."

So this was my stalker. Not really, but I wouldn't have any privacy throughout the day anymore.

I had no idea what to do now. Was I supposed to say, "Hey, I want you to do this, this, this and this," or "I want to go to..."? I wasn't sure. So I made up a lie.

"Well, I don't really have any plans for today..."

I was actually planning to go see Eragon spar with Vanir, and then hang out with him and Oromis afterwards. Like I did every other day.

Neneel brightened, "Would you like to visit Tialdarí Hall and the gardens?"

Her suggestion took me off guard, but I accepted. I hadn't done a lot of visiting during the time I'd been here, so why not go now? I could catch up with Eragon and Oromis later.

Briam stood as well. He was growing steadily, but I could still carry him. Neneel led us westward, and along the way many elves stopped to greet Briam. Finally we arrived at a ribbed lancet arch, which served as the entrance for a wide compound. Neneel chanted in the ancient language, "Root of tree, fruit of vine, let me pass by this blood of mine."

The two archway doors opened, and I immediately took notice of the vast flower garden arranged to look as pristine and natural as a wild meadow. "It's beautiful," I said aloud.

Neneel smiled, "That it is."

Moving forward, we crossed the garden and pressed deep into a line of scattered trees. After a time, the trees became more numerous and then thickened into a wall. It took me a minute to realize that we'd actually entered into the hall.

It was warm and homey – a place of peace, reflection, and comfort. Its shape was determined by the tree trunks, which on the inside of the hall had been stripped of their bark, polished, and rubbed with oil until they gleamed like amber. Gaps between the trees acted as windows. There was a number of elves here as well, studying, writing, playing reed pipes; they all stopped to incline their heads to Briam. He hummed deep in his throat.

_I can't wait until you meet real society_.

_Real? This is real society_.

_No, this is dressed up society. Wait until you meet a human or a dwarf; then you'll realize that I'm right._

_I've met Orik before, and you and Eragon. You're human._

Irritated, I chose to ignore him. I followed wordlessly behind Neneel, who showed us all of the rooms. Eragon had spoken to me once of this hall, but hadn't gotten to see everything because Saphira was so big. _Ha ha_, I thought.

_You're a very mean sister_.

_Oh don't worry, I'll fill him in on what he missed_.

_I'm sure that you will_.

I went back to ignoring him. It was harder to do than it sounded, since we were linked together through our brains. I wished we were just joined at the hip, although then that might be extremely uncomfortable and I wouldn't be able to do anything when he got bigger because I'd be dragged around. At least I'd still be able to go flying, but that probably wouldn't be very comfortable either.

At last, we arrived back at the garden. I stared at all of the different types of flowers – some weren't even in season anywhere else, while others were from varying climates. The elves magic truly amazed me. In this regard, I wished I'd been born an elf. And, thinking in this manner, their customs wouldn't bother me much either, since I would've been raised with them. Oh well, I was happy just to have been born.

"Would you like to stay a while longer, or shall we go somewhere else?"

For the rest of the day, I followed Neneel around as she showed off everything there was to see in Ellesméra. When I arrived home, I was extremely tired from walking, and I promptly fell asleep. It was the most peaceful sleep I'd had in a while.

**Again, I'm sorry for the delay. I don't have much time to write while I'm at my dad's house, so if I miss a day, that's probably why. Oh, and thanks to Seventh Sanctum (again) for the name generator this time. (Although I really prefer the LOTR one; if you have time to spare, google 'Elf name generator' and it should be the first one on the list. Then type in your name and get your elf name! You can do the same thing for the hobbit one.)**


	32. Chapter 32: It Shows

A few days passed. Eragon's back was really messing him up. He came up with a name for it: _The Obliterator_. On top of that, Arya still wasn't speaking with him. He was so desperate, he asked me to talk to her. I gave him a flat out 'no', followed by a lecture on how inappropriate it was to moon after her like he did. I didn't say anything about her actions; it would only encourage his.

"I've already got one conscious," he'd snapped. "I don't need two."

"Apparently you do," I muttered.

Neneel went everywhere with me. I found her to be quite comforting to talk to, and often times ranted about whatever was bothering me that day. She rarely commented, which was fine with me. Briam, on the other hand, loved to comment. I couldn't wait until he got a little bit bigger and had some real problems. Right now, his problems were not having enough food or attention. Soon, Glaedr would take him under his wing for training.

It was while we were heading over to watch Eragon and Vanir that Neneel said something that made me stop in my tracks.

"Vinr Älfakyn, your stomach!"

My hand instantly flew to it, and I vaguely noticed that it had grown, and was now slightly noticeable to a human eye; an elf's eye wouldn't miss it.

"I'm pregnant, Neneel," I said quietly.

Her eyes widened, and after the shock passed, she smiled. "I should not have been so surprised. It is quite common for humans to have children, yes?"

Briam coughed, then laughed until he couldn't laugh anymore, just breath heavily. I didn't know what to say to that, so I didn't say anything.

"Come, we are late to the sparring match." She grabbed my hand and led me away.

After watching Eragon and Vanir, I wasn't sure who I felt sorrier for, Eragon or myself. He had to endure his back spasm at least three times during the course of that hour, but I had to endure every elf in the place staring at me, and then smiling. When we arrived at Oromis's home, I was in a foul mood. When I was little, I remembered hitting anyone that looked at me funny, or looked at Eragon funny for that matter. I couldn't do that here, and it frustrated me. Their smiles were really creeping me out.

_Their thought process was probably a lot like Neneel's_.

_Great, so what you're saying is that they were shocked, and then got over it because of my race. They may as well call us the 'fertile myrtle' race if that's the way their going to act_.

Another great laugh escaped from Briam, and everyone looked at us.

"Something funny?" Oromis asked.

"Only to Briam."

It was around this time that Eragon was doing the Rimgar, and his back acted up again. The wards I'd placed around myself prevented any pain from him to reach me. I couldn't suffer bouts like that when I was pregnant.

When he came to, Oromis said, "Again, Eragon. You must perfect your balance."

Eragon stubbornly refused. I sympathized with my brother, and if I wasn't pregnant, I'd gladly trade places with him. Apparently, fate had other plans though, and wanted my brother to work his butt off and hurt himself trying to please everyone else. I'd like to meet fate one day; I'd give it a piece of my mind.

"What?"

"No."

"Get up, Eragon, and try again."

"No! Do the pose yourself; I won't."

My head went back and forth between the two as they argued, uselessly in my opinion. Oromis knelt down beside Eragon and placed a hand on his cheek. He looked at Eragon with such kindness that it caused a lump to form in my throat.

"Don't abandon hope," Oromis said. "Never that. We are the riders. We stand between the light and the dark, and keep the balance between the two. Ignorance, fear, hate: these are our enemies. Deny them with all your might, Eragon, or we will surely fail." He stood, extending a hand toward Eragon.

"Now rise, Shadeslayer, and prove you can conquer the instincts of your flesh!"

Eragon stood, and rose to his full height, looking Eragon in the eyes. I knew I could never have made Eragon do that, because I would've continued to argue with him, and then start calling him colorful names. "And don't think I wasn't talking to you too," he said to me. "You, out of all of us, have endured more at Galbatorix's hands to keep this rider safe than anyone else would have."

I bowed my head, so he couldn't see the single tear rolling down my face. Briam rubbed his head against my leg, and I scooped him up.

"Master." Eragon said. It sounded like he wanted a question answered.

"Yes, Eragon?"

"Why must I endure this torture? You could use magic to give me the skills I need, to shape my body as you do the trees and plants."

I was startled; they could do that! I listened attentively to Oromis's reply.

"I could, but if I did, you would not understand how you got the body you had, your own abilities, nor how to maintain them. No shortcuts exist for the path you walk, Eragon."

I accepted that, and I saw that Eragon, though grudgingly, did too. Oromis looked at me, and his lips curved upward.

"What?" I asked. I was tired of everyone looking at me.

"It shows," he replied back, motioning to my stomach.

"Fantastic," I muttered.

I stalked off, Briam and Neneel following, to the sound of laughter behind me.


	33. Chapter 33: Flight With Glaedr

Briam was bigger than me now; he could look me in the eye if he bent his head forward a little. My stomach was a little bit bigger, but not much. The elves seemed to think so though. They commented all the time about it. Neneel had learned not to say anything, and I think she started to spread the word, because they commented less and less on it gradually. They apparently didn't think it was offensive, or they wouldn't have said it. At least, I don't think they would have. Vanir insulted Eragon all the time though, so maybe they were doing it on purpose.

Vanir was getting on my nerves. It was bad enough that he was constantly picking on Eragon, but now he gave me a dirty look every time he saw me. Any time he was with any of his friends, they would whisper among themselves and then look at me before bursting with laughter. If they weren't careful, I was going to tell Islanzadí on them. She'd teach them some manners, I was sure.

I was surprised one day when Oromis asked if I cared to go with Glaedr, Eragon, and Saphira.

"But Briam's too little to ride," I told him.

His lips curved upwards. "Briam won't be going at all. You would ride Glaedr."

My eyes widened. Ride Glaedr? The thought seemed foreign to me. It also didn't seem right to ride him, because he was Oromis's dragon. I voiced my opinion out loud.

"Relax Arianna. You need to learn this information as much as Eragon and Saphira, and I have a feeling it's something that Brom _didn't_ teach you. It's only taught to the Riders, and even if he had, it wouldn't have been as impressive as it would be to hear it from a dragon. Glaedr won't mind taking you; I've already talked to him. So, will you go?"

Still a bit reluctant, I agreed.

"You'll have to keep in contact with Briam, if you can, so that he can hear Glaedr too."

"I will."

I actually didn't know how far apart we could go before our mental link faded. The next day, I woke up, and Neneel, Briam, and I went through our usual routine of watching Eragon and then going to stay with Oromis. Neneel was not allowed to stay too close during that time, because it wasn't information for her to hear. Today would be different though, because today I would be accompanying Glaedr, Eragon, and Saphira to wherever it was that we were going. Briam and Neneel would keep Oromis company while we were gone.

Glaedr's massive size was daunting, and I carefully climbed up his front foreleg and onto his back, strapping myself securely into the saddle. I was not taking any chances for fear of falling off and plummeting to my death. I liked to think that Glaedr or Saphira would catch me, but if I was strapped in good, I wouldn't have to worry about it.

I sucked in a breath as Glaedr spread his huge wings and took off. It was a windy ride. I barely saw Eragon pull out a container filled with some lubricant that he put on his lips, and I wanted to fly over there and whack him. That little twit knew my lips would get cold and chapped, and he didn't warn me!

I tucked my face closer to Glaedr's neck, and exhaled in annoyance. Sometimes I wondered how we could be related, let alone twins. If I knew that we were going somewhere and that we were going to need some lip stuff, I would've told him. That's the least you could do for someone that you cared about. Save them the pain from chapped lips. Agh!

_You've got issues_, Briam said.

_Go away_.

_Sorry, I've got strict orders to learn whatever Glaedr's teaching_.

I blocked him out until we arrived at our destination, which was a bare ridge on the first of four mountain peaks.

_This peak is known as Fionula_, said Glaedr. _And her brothers are Ethrundr, Merogoven, and Griminsmal. Each has its own tale, which I shall recount on the flight back. But for now, I shall address the purpose of this trip, namely the nature of the bond forged between dragons and elves, and later, humans. You both know something of it – and I have hinted at its full implications to Saphira – but the time has come to learn the solemn and profound meaning of your partnership so that you may uphold it when Oromis and I are no more._

I tingled with excitement. Eragon took this opportunity to pry about why Oromis wasn't with them. I could feel Briam's excitement too. Finally, something we agreed upon.

_Parts of what I am about to reveal were common knowledge among the elves, Riders, and learned humans, but much of it was known only to the leader of the Riders, a mere handful of elves, the human's current potentate, and, of course, the dragon's._

_Listen now, my hatchlings. When peace was made between dragons and elves at the end of our war, the Riders were created to ensure that such conflict would never again arise between our two races. Queen Tarmunora of the elves and the dragon who had been selected to represent us, whose name-_ He paused and conveyed a series of impressions to Eragon and I: long tooth, white tooth, chipped tooth; fights won, fights lost; countless eaten Shrrg and Nagra; seven-and-twenty eggs sired and nineteen offspring grown to maturity – _cannot be expressed in any language, decided that a common treaty would not suffice. Signed paper means nothing to a dragon. Our blood runs hot and thick and, given enough time, it was inevitable that we would clash with the elves again, as we had with the dwarves over the millennia. But unlike with the dwarves, neither we nor the elves could afford another war. We were both too powerful, and we would have destroyed each other. The one way to prevent that and to forge a meaningful accord was to link our two races with magic._

Glaedr had been blowing small jets of heat upon a rock nearby, which was keeping me warm, and when Eragon shivered, he said, with a touch of amusement, _Saphira, if you are wise, you will heat one of these rocks with the fire from your belly so that your Rider does not freeze_.

I watched, slightly fearful of being singed, as Saphira arched her neck and warmed up Eragon. Eragon turned away when the air got too hot, and after a minute Saphira snapped her jaw shut.

_Remember, Saphira, to use your tongue to direct the stream_, Glaedr said.

_Now...it took nine years for the elves' wisest magicians to devise the needed spell. When they had, they and the dragons gathered together at Ilirea. The elves provided the structure of the enchantment, the dragons provided the strength, and together they melded the souls of elves and dragons._

_The joining changed us. We dragons gained the use of language and other trappings of civilization, while the elves shared in our longevity, since before that moment, their lives were as short as human's._

How funny; make up a special treaty with dragons and get long life. Now they think they're better than everyone else.

_In the end, the elves were the most affected. Our magic – dragons' magic – which permeates every fiber of our being – was transmitted to the elves and, in time, gave them their much-vaunted strength and grace. Humans have never been influenced as strongly, since you were added to the spell after its completion, and it has not had as much time to work upon you as with the elves. Still _– I noticed a gleam in his eye – _it has already gentled your race from the rough barbarians who first landed in Alagaësia, though you have begun to regress since the Fall_.

Oh sure, _we_ were the barbaric race. So maybe it was slightly true, and scarily, I'm sure that our manners would be – and it pained me to say it – much like the elves if we lived as long as they do. I was glad our race didn't live forever. Of course, as long as Briam stayed alive, I'd live forever too.

Eragon began to ask about the dwarves. I tuned back in when he was explaining about how they had escaped the decline. I didn't have to ask; Saphira did it for me.

_Aye, decline. If one or another of our three races suffer, so do they all. By killing dragons, Galbatorix harmed his own race as well as the elves. The two of you have not seen this, for you are new to Ellesméra, but the elves are on the wane; their power is not what it once was. And humans have lost much of their culture and been consumed by chaos and corruption._

No thanks to Galbatorix. Stupid, never dying piece of-

_Hey, watch the language. There's kids present_.

_Yeah, yeah_.

_Only by righting the imbalance between our three races shall order return to the world_.

Glaedr then went on to explain the bond between a Rider and dragon.

_Layered within the enchantment Queen Tarmunora oversaw was the mechanism that allows a hatchling to be linked with his or her Rider. When a dragon decides to give an egg to the Riders, certain words are said over the egg – which I shall teach you later – that prevent the dragon inside from hatching until it is brought into contact with the person whom it decides to bond. As dragons can remain in their eggs indefinitely, time is of no concern, nor is the infant harmed. You yourself are an example of this, Saphira, as is Briam_.

_The bond that forms between a Rider and dragon is but an enhanced version of the bond that already exists between our races. The human or elf becomes stronger and fairer, while some of the dragon's fiercer traits are tempered by a more reasoned outlook_.

Eragon, after being prompted by Glaedr, went on to say that he couldn't imagine Saphira being any fiercer. His words made Glaedr laugh, and if I hadn't been strapped on, I would've fallen off. It was very unsettling.

I was extremely tired when we got back. Glaedr had talked more about the bond between a Rider and dragon, and why Galbatorix and Shruikan's partnership is so messed up. He also taught us how to separate our consciousnesses. I practiced immediately. Briam didn't think I was very funny.

As I climbed off of Glaedr's back, I noticed him glaring at me. When he got bigger, I was sure it would be quite formidable. Some poor lad would probably wet himself. This thought alone made me laugh, and without noticing, I'd allowed our consciousnesses to meld back together. Briam, upon realizing what I was laughing about, laughed too.

Seeing Oromis's face made me laugh that much harder, and then I decided I wanted to preserve it. I ran inside, grabbed a fairth, and uttered the words that would make his face appear. I was extremely pleased when it did. When I arrived home, I hung it on the wall. It wasn't often that I got to see Oromis confused. Now I could see him confused every single day.

**So I'm sure that most of you have read most of that already, since everything that Glaedr said was right in the book. I know, I'm so creative today :) Who knows, maybe it gave you guys a refresher.**


	34. Chapter 34: The Agaetí Blödhren

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so excited to wait for something as I was when I was waiting for the Agaetí Blödhren. The excitement I had once felt waiting for the trader's to come to Carvahall was nothing compared to this. Then again, we'd also needed the traders to come out of a necessity. This was an ancient celebration that I would probably never get to witness again.

A week before the ceremony, Oromis told Briam and I, "You should both think about what you can bring to the Blood-Oath Celebration. Unless your creations require magic to make or to function, I suggest that you avoid using gramarye. No one will respect your work if it's the product of a spell and not your own hands. I also suggest that you each make your own piece. That too is the custom, though I'm not sure that you actually can, Briam."

I felt Briam's resentment and stifled a laugh. He'd try his hardest now to find something he could make and bring to the ceremony.

_Well, just imagine if he had said, "Though I'm not sure that you actually can, Arianna, being pregnant and everything."_

_First of all, being pregnant doesn't make you handicapped, and second of all, Oromis would never say that. Thirdly, you can't breathe fire yet, so what are you going to do?_

_I'll think of something_, he growled.

Neneel dropped us off, and I waved goodbye. Briam followed me into the tree, and I wondered why he just didn't fly up to the top.

_Because I won't be able to use the stairs soon, and I want to use the stairs for as long as I can_.

What a strange dragon I'd been paired with. Then a thought hit me.

_I can ride you soon!_

_Yes_, he said hesitantly, if not a bit frighteningly.

_Oh relax, you'll be fine. _

_You might make me fall_.

By this time we were on flat ground, and I whirled around to glare at him.

_Are you insinuating that I'm __**fat**__? Because if you are, I'll-_

Briam laughed...and laughed...and laughed some more. He lithely avoided the swat that I sent his way, and carried on laughing.

Then I realized that I should be working on my piece of work to bring to the Blood-oath Celebration. I remembered vaguely what Oromis had told Saphira, Briam, and I when Eragon and Glaedr were out flying and we got to watch him paint scrolls.

"Now, you all possess one quality that no one else does," Oromis told us. Your identity. Your history, deeds, and situation. Use those to shape your creation and you will produce something unique. Whatever you make, base it upon that which is most important to you. Only then will it have depth and meaning, and only then will it resonate with others."

Thinking in this way, I tried to figure out what was important to me. It didn't take much thought. Before I lost my train of thought, I hurried into my room and pulled out a piece of paper, and inkwell, and a quill. I then set about writing my composition.

While I wrote, I noticed that Briam was up to something, but he put up barriers that prevented me from seeing what he was doing. I'd find out soon enough. When I was finished, I reached under my bed and fished out Vanilor.

_Hello, youngling._

_Good afternoon, Vanilor. Would you care to hear my piece for the Blood-oath Celebration?_

I felt his emotions skyrocket at the mention of the Blood-oath Celebration. I also began to see memories from a past one that he had attended. When he noticed I was getting glimpses, he blocked off that part of his mind and told me to carry on with what I was doing.

_You'll find out soon enough the events of the Blood-oath Ceremony._

When I was finished, I felt satisfaction from him.

_You have grown, Arianna Selenasdaughter_.

I smiled widely, talked more with Vanilor, and then placed him back in his safe spot before falling asleep.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­­­­On the eve of the Agaetí Blödhren, Briam and I accompanied Eragon, Saphira, Orik, and Arya (much to my displeasure). Eragon had made me hold still while he recited nine words in the ancient language that were designed to keep our wits about us. I had a gut feeling Eragon was going to do something stupid, but I didn't say anything to him.

I'd had a strange dream the night before, but, for the first time in my life, I couldn't remember what it had been about. It was as if it was blocked from me, which didn't make any sense, because I wasn't blocking anything, and I didn't see how anyone else could be doing it, because my mind was blocked off from them. I pushed the thought aside as we approached the Menoa tree, where a large host of elves, black and silver hair gleaming in the lamplight, were gathered.

Islanzadí stood upon a raised root at the base of the trunk. Blagden roosted on the queen's left shoulder, while Maud lurked behind her. I saw Glaedr – he wasn't hard to find – and in spotting him I found Oromis, who was garbed in red and black. I caught his eye and smiled. He returned the gesture, then turned his gaze back to the queen.

Arya left, then returned with an elf I'd never seen before. Apparently Eragon and Saphira had though, because they greeted her by name. I gathered that she was Rhunön, the blacksmith. I was awestruck when she greeted Orik in dwarvish, to his obvious delight.

I hadn't dared to bring Vanilor, for fear that Eragon's nine words wouldn't protect me from going mad, and that I wouldn't be able to look out for him. If anything happened to him, I'd never forgive myself.

The time finally came for the celebration to start. I didn't remember much after that, except the couple times that Oromis pulled Eragon and I aside and told us to wait there until we could remember whatever he told us to remember. Oh, and dancing. Lots and lots of dancing. The food was amazing, and the things the elves had made were very memorable also. Arya's was the most memorable, because I'd had to suffer through it. No one would forgive me if I skipped out on it. I liked the queen's poem though.

I believe it was the third day that I presented my piece of work. Eragon and Saphira went before me though, and Eragon's made my heart ache. The elves loved it, and the queen even went so far as to make him repeat it after saying that she was going to put it in the great library in the Tialdarí Hall. Saphira's was next; a large rock that was glossy from being melted and somehow molded into intricate curves that wound about each other, like frozen waves. It was even more beautiful after she blew on it with fire.

Next was my turn. I was feeling very self conscious, and my little baby bump felt giant with so many people looking at it. I began to slowly recite what I had written.

_At the small and tender age of eight  
__The young girl saw such horrors  
__That she knew what she must do._

_When the time finally came  
__She thought she'd be ready  
__To leave everything she'd ever known  
__Behind her; but she wasn't._

_In her enemy's hands  
__She suffered to protect that which she loved  
__And out of spite, was sent away  
__To Durza's pain inflicting hands._

I went on and on, recounting everything that had happened between then and now; basically pouring my heart out. It was funny how Eragon and I had a similar poem.

_When she was returned to him  
__He who sought to harm her  
__She continued to hide her thoughts from him  
__To protect the one she loved._

_After many painful weeks, her chance at escape finally came  
__And with her came the little dragon egg,  
__Whom she'd seen in a vision  
__sitting right beside her._

_To Ellesméra she fled  
__Knowing not what awaited her  
__With only one thought in mind:  
__To find that which she loved;  
__To continue to do her duty._

When I was finished, I hurried to get out of the spotlight.

"It seems that both of our new Rider's are talented in this field," the elf lord, Däthedr said. Islanzadí agreed with him, but to my relief, didn't say anything about putting it in the library. I wouldn't want everyone going to read it.

Briam went next, and I was surprised to see that he had indeed finished something. I found it was hard to describe, but it was a little like what Saphira had wrought, only without fire, because he couldn't breathe it yet. I had difficulty believing he did it with his talons though. Although, as I noticed them – really noticed them – they actually were quite sharp. And it was a small rock...yet the way Saphira looked at it made me think she was probably involved. Who knew, maybe she did the whole thing. At any rate, the elves loved it.

Finally, it was time for the reason we were all gathered together; to reaffirm the oath between the three races.

"Watch you carefully, for this of great importance to your heritage as Riders," Oromis said to us.

Two elf maids entered the center of the space when all the elves were quieted down, and they stood back to back. They were identical in every aspect except their hair: one had tresses as black as a forgotten pool, while the other's hair gleamed like burnished silver wire.

"The caretakers, Iduna and Nëya," whispered Oromis.

From Islanzadí's shoulder, Blagden shrieked, "_Wyrda!_"

I watched, fascinated, as they began to dance. Tattooed on their bodies was a dragon, and it seemed to come alive as they danced.

Music began to play, and they danced round and round. The dragon appeared to fly in endless circles across their skin. Then the twins added their voices to the music, building upon the pounding beat with their fierce cries, their lyrics verses of a complex spell. I, along with everyone else present, found myself singing along, though I did not know why the words seemed so familiar.

Saphira, Glaedr, and Briam hummed along, a deep pulse so strong it made my skin tingle and the air shimmer. The twins accelerated to an inhuman speed, and a flare of light ran the length of the dragon tattoo, from head to tail, and then the dragon stirred. I couldn't believe my eyes as the dragon separated everything except the tip of its tail from the elves, shooting up towards the moon and perching there to look at all the assembled.

I shivered when it looked at me. It looped down among the elves, brushing them with an insubstantial wing, and stopped before Eragon and I. Eragon raised his right hand, and the dragon touched his gedwëy ignasia. I saw Eragon sway before he began to fall, and trembled as the dragon once again looked at me. As if my hand was a whole separate thing, I raised my right hand as Eragon had.

_Our gift so that you may protect what you must._

He bent his neck and, with his snout, touched his nose to the heart of my gedwëy ignasia. I felt a spark jump between us, and my body went rigid as incandescent heat poured through my body, consuming everything in it. My vision flashed red and black, the same colors as Oromis had worn, and the small scar that I'd kept hidden from everyone – the one that I'd received from Shruikan – burned worse than it ever had before, even when I'd received it. I swayed, and hoping that someone would catch me, I succumbed to the darkness.

The last thing I heard was, _Protect him_.

**It's ok if you guys thought that the poem sucked; I'm not much for poetry. Anyway, sorry it was a day late - I wasn't sure what to do with this chapter, and I had to refresh myself with the events that took place during the celebration. That, and I got caught up reading about what Roran was doing in Teirm with Jeod and daydreaming and then I didn't feel like writing much anymore. Hope you guys liked it!**


	35. Chapter 35: Practically An Elf

When I awoke, I was by a man that I didn't recognize, and upon noticing that, I couldn't stop the scream that flew from my throat. The man that had been sleeping leaped to his feet, and as I stared into his eyes, I realized that they were the same shade as mine.

"Eragon?"

"Arianna?"

"What happened to you?" we asked at the same time.

"What do you mean?" Again, spoken simultaneously.

I pushed myself up, and asked if he had a mirror about, because I wanted to see what he was talking about. He might look like an elf, but there was no way that I could. At least, I hoped that there wasn't.

I snatched it from him before he could stand there gawking at himself, and I almost dropped it. My eyes were slanted like an elf's, my ears were pointed, my face was as smooth and slanted as an elf's, and my skin was as pale and alabaster as theirs, emitting a faint glow, as if with the sheen of magic. I stiffened; I looked like Arya.

"Well?" Eragon asked me. I shoved the mirror at him and left. Briam attempted to talk to me, but I kept up the wards around my mind. Why had the dragons done this to me? Yes, my appearance would have changed over time anyway, but that would've been really far away. Now no one would-

I cut that thought short. _Now no one will recognize me_. The words that the dragon had said to me suddenly came back: _Our gift so that you may protect what you must_. I wondered what they had said to Eragon. I then realized that this must've been the premonition I'd had in my sleep that I hadn't remembered, and that it was the dragon's magic that had kept it from me.

_Where goes Eragon?_ Saphira asked me.

_I don't know_. There was still a sour note to my voice.

_I think he's going to do something he's going to regret. Find him._

She sent me the last picture she had of his whereabouts, and I ran, faster than I had ever ran before, to that spot. I also cheated a little and entered my brother's mind. That, at least, had not changed. Neither had his intentions about Arya, for that was whom he was with. As I raced towards them, I could hear their whole stupid conversation in my head, and it was Eragon who started it. Not much of a conversation really – just Eragon doing his usual mooning after the elf princess.

"How tall the trees, how bright the stars...and how beautiful you are, O Arya Svit-kona."

Sadly, I could understand why he said it, being in his head and all. That didn't mean I liked that fact though. Then something else hit me that made me even angrier. Who would I end up with in the end? I had a sinking feeling that it would be no one, and I willed the tears to go away.

Through Eragon's eyes, I saw Arya stiffen. "Eragon..."

And he, being the giant idiot he was, ignored her. "Arya, I'll do anything to win your hand. I would follow you to the ends of the earth. I would build a palace for you with nothing but my bare hands. I would-"

"Will you stop pursuing me? Can you promise me that?"

_Of course he can't_, I thought to myself.

She stepped closer to him, and in a low and more gentle than he really deserved voice said, "Eragon, this cannot be. You are young and I am old, and that shall never change."

"Do you feel nothing for me?" What a stupid question; of course she did. She just happened to be a little bit smarter than my brother when it came to their duties.

"My feelings for you are those of a friend and nothing more. I am grateful to you for rescuing me from Gil'ead, and I find your company pleasant."

Gee, I wonder why that would be.

"That is all...Relinquish this quest of yours – it will only bring you heartache – and find someone your own age to spend the long years with."

"How can you be so cruel?" he asked her. I was getting closer now, but I wasn't close enough to stop whatever stupid thing he was planning next.

"I am not cruel, but kind. You and I are not meant for each other."

"You could give me your memories, and then I would have the same amount of experience and knowledge as you."

Like that stupid thing.

"It would be an abomination. Hear me well, Eragon. This cannot, nor ever shall be. And until you master yourself, our friendship must cease to exist, for your emotions do nothing but distract us from our duty." She bowed to him. "Goodbye, Eragon Shadeslayer."

It was as she was leaving that I arrived, the same way that Arya was leaving.

"I apologize for my brother, Arya Svit-kona, and if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to my brother, as your lies have probably cut him to the core."

Her expression became one of hurt before she masked it behind her usual expressionless mask.

I found Eragon sitting upon a log with his face buried in his hands, weeping, and ground my teeth together from saying anything about exactly how stupid his actions toward Arya were.

_Saphira, hurry up. This is your area of expertise._

_Why would that be?_

_Because you're always the one to fix him after he says something stupid._

Not knowing exactly what to do, I sat down on the log beside him and put an arm around him. He clearly wasn't expecting other human contact, or rather, half-elf, half-human contact, as the case might be. I wasn't sure what I was exactly; Oromis would have an explanation, I was sure.

"Don't talk, stupid," I said when he opened his mouth to say something. "Saphira's on her way, so until she gets here, I'm all you've got."

"You always were," he said through tears.

Maybe he wasn't as stupid as I'd always thought. Saphira arrived quickly enough, and I allowed her to take over. I realized that I had no idea where Briam was.

_Saphira, where's Briam?_

She laughed, and I looked at her sternly.

_He's passed out by the Menoa tree. He had a bit too much to drink_.

_You let him drink? He's just a baby!_

I ran to the Menoa tree, and found Briam passed out, just as Saphira had said he would be. He was too big for me to carry now, so instead of trying to wake him up, which would've been pointless, I curled up on the ground next to him to fall asleep. I was mostly elf now; I could handle the cold. Besides, I had Briam's belly to keep me warm. I guess that I didn't really sleep anymore though. It was just a state of rest.


	36. Chapter 36: Redeemed

Eragon was sullen for the next two days because of Arya's departure to Surda. Personally, I was glad, for it gave him room to focus. I suppose I didn't hate her, but her situation with my brother left little room for me to like her, let alone be friends.

Saphira never left Eragon alone during those two days, and for what reason, I do not know, she always kept me informed. Like the time that he finally figured out Orik's puzzle ring that he'd given him on the way there. That was nice for him, and meant that the dragon's gift had done him good, but it really didn't pertain to me. Briam chastised me every time I dismissed something that she told me about my brother.

_Like I'm supposed to listen to you. You don't even know your alcohol limits! What were the elves and Saphira and Glaedr thinking?_

_They weren't; it was the Agaetí Blödhren, remember? You know-_

_Yes, yes I know. When the elves go gloriously mad. That's why Oromis gave Eragon the nine wards to put around Orik, me, and himself. Apparently someone should've put them around you too._

When Neneel arrived, I walked alongside her to the sparring field, and from there I could see Orik standing with Eragon and Saphira. I quickly joined them as Eragon was asking if he was going to practice as well.

"Eh. I already got in a bit o'ax work with an elf who took a rather fiendish delight in cracking me over the head. No...I came to watch you fight."

This confused my brother. "You've seen me fight before."

"Not for a while, I haven't."

I didn't listen to the last part of their conversation. I watched Vanir walk across the field towards us. From looking at him, it appeared that he wasn't acting as haughty as usual, but the words out of his mouth made me think that it was very little.

"Are you ready, Shadeslayer?"

"I'm ready."

Eragon and Vanir squared off, and Eragon grasped Zar'roc and pulled. The sword flew out of his hand, and a peal of laughter escaped my lips. It sounded more elf than human. I felt slightly self-conscious as every elf there turned to stare at me, and I realized that they'd never heard me laugh before. Only Oromis, Neneel, Eragon, and the dragons had been fortunate enough to.

The sword buried itself in the trunk of a pine tree twenty feet away.

"Can you not even hold on to your blade, Rider?" Vanir demanded.

"I apologize, Vanir-vodhr," Eragon said. I wouldn't have apologized to him. "I misjudged my strength."

"See that it does not happen again." All trace of humor was gone from my face as I glared at him. He either didn't notice or didn't care. It was probably the second one, and that made me more irritated. I followed him with my glare as he approached the tree to pull Zar'roc out. I allowed a smile to return to my face as I watched him struggle and put all of his weight into pulling the sword free. If he was clever, he would've just called it with magic, but he had to prove how tough he was to everyone else. Well, now he knew that no one beat a tree without a fight.

_Be nice, Arianna._

I didn't pay too much attention to Briam; he was laughing as well.

Eragon accepted the sword, and Vanir barked at him to take his place. Vanir thrust his sword at Eragon's right shoulder, and Eragon, to the surprise of many, easily deflected his blade. Vanir continued to rain blows upon him, and Eragon continued to evade them. At one point, Eragon jumped up ten feet in the air, flipped, and landed in front of Vanir. I shivered as a fierce laugh escaped from my brother, but not out of fear. I was just as excited as he was, but I knew him better, and I knew that he'd still end up in a world of trouble somehow. Just not by Vanir or any other human.

Their fight continued well into the morning, and my eyes never strayed from it. Finally, he got Zar'roc past Vanir's guard and struck him on the upper arm. I flinched as I heard the bone break.

Vanir dropped his sword, face white with shock.

"How swift is your sword," he uttered. I knew it was a line from some poem, but I didn't know which one, and I didn't really care. Orik was twice as excited as I was, which was quite a sight. Of course, Orik was Eragon's brother by way of their clan, so of course he'd be happy that someone could beat an elf.

I watched with mild surprise as Vanir twisted his uninjured hand in the gesture of fealty, placed it upon his sternum, and bowed. It was about time he respected his superiors.

"I beg your pardon for my earlier behavior, Eragon-elda. I thought that you had consigned my race to the void, and out of my fear I acted most shamefully. However, it seems that your race no longer endangers our cause." In a grudging voice he added, "You are now worthy of the title Rider." Ooh, he was still a prick. Now he was just going to mask it behind some nice words. Who was he to decide who is worthy of the title Rider? He was nobody, that's who.

_Calm down; your resentment travels fast across the line._

_Good. If you beat him up, I won't get in trouble._

Eragon bowed in return. Sickening. "You honor me. I'm sorry that I injured you so badly. Will you allow me to heal your arm?"

"No, I shall let nature tend to it at her own pace, as a memory that I once crossed blades with Eragon Shadeslayer. You needn't fear that it will disrupt our sparring tomorrow; I am equally good with my left hand." They both bowed again, and before Vanir left, he inclined his head towards me. I didn't know what that was all about, and I chose, as I often did, to ignore it.

Amazingly, there was still time left before it was time to go see Oromis, so Eragon went to shoot with his bow. The way he shot them was causing some real abuse to it, which ultimately led to its destruction. He looked at me like a little kid would look to their parent when they'd experienced some sort of traumatic event.

"I'm sorry, Eragon. There's nothing I can do to fix it."

Saphira sniffed it before telling him that he needed a new stick thrower. Eragon grunted before stalking away. It was his own fault for pushing it to its limits.

I allowed myself a smile as the thought once again came to me that Eragon was healed from Durza's wound. His fight with Vanir had redeemed him, and I knew that he would bounce back soon enough.


	37. Chapter 37: Scrying

A terrible nightmare plagued me for many weeks. I saw two sides raging a terrible battle, but worse than that was that I saw Murtagh and Eragon fighting on dragon back as Saphira and Thorn clawed at each other. The dream became worse with every passing night, until finally I couldn't stay in my trancelike sleep state. I kept the information from Briam, despite his protests and pleas to know; I'd never said anything to him about Thorn and Murtagh, and I wasn't going to. Not until it was unavoidable, at any rate.

It was on one of these nights that I noticed that there was a faint glowing coming from Eragon's study, so I decided to join him. He was reading one of Analísa's epics; apparently something had disturbed him as well. Whatever it was, he didn't appear to want to talk about it. Probably something to do with Arya again. I took a deep breath to keep from grounding my teeth together. _That_ he would hear. If I was just breathing in deeply, he would assume I was trying to clear my head. In a way, I was.

As Eragon was putting away the scroll, Blagden flew through the window and landed on the corner of the carved writing desk. He fixed his beady eyes on my brother and croaked, "_Wyrda!_"

Eragon inclined his head. "And may the stars watch over you, Master Blagden."

Blagden hopped closer, cocked his head to the side, cleared his throat and recited:

_By beak and bone,  
__Mine blackened stone  
__Sees rooks and crooks  
__And bloody brooks!_

I sucked in a breath at the same time that Eragon asked, "What does that mean?"

He was so clueless sometimes, it was sad.

Blagden recited the verse for him again, and when Eragon pressed once more, the bird ruffled his feathers and cackled, "Son and father alike, both as blind as bats."

Of course, this caught his attention. "Wait! Do you know my father? Who is he?"

Blagden peered at me with one of his eyes, as if to say, "Are you really related to him?" and then cackled, as if to laugh, before reciting another verse for Eragon.

_While two may share two,  
__And one of two is certainly one,  
__One might be two._

"A name, Blagden. Give me a name!" I wasn't sure what Eragon did, but Blagden shrieked "_Wyrda!"_ once more before darting forward, plucking up a bright glass stopper from the inkwell, and speeding away with his new trophy clutched in his beak.

Eragon was only quiet for a moment before he turned on me.

"A lot of help you were."

"Hey, Blagden's the one with all the answers, not me." Not true at all, but for now it could pass for truth.

It was a few minutes later that my genius of a brother decided he would scry Arya by using the mirror he used for shaving. He sat between her two front paws, and I sat next to the right one and set my arms on top of it, resting my head as I watched. I wasn't going to put a whole lot of effort into watching Arya in the mirror.

I watched as the mirror shimmered and turned white, except for nine people clustered around an invisible table. I saw Nasuada at the head of the table, and the council of Elders, but no Arya. What a shame. I noticed that they were dressed for battle, and Saphira had the sense to suggest that Eragon utter a spell to allow us to hear what they were saying. Nasuada's voice came out loud enough.

"...and confusion will destroy us. Our warriors can afford but one commander during this conflict. Decide who it is to be, Orrin, and quickly too."

There was a disembodied sigh. "As you wish; the position is yours."

"But, sir, she is untried!"

"Enough, Irwin," Orrin ordered. "She has more experience in war than anyone in Surda. And the Varden are the only force to have defeated one of Galbatorix's armies."

No thanks to Eragon.

"If Nasuada were a Surdan general – which would be peculiar indeed, I admit – you would not hesitate to nominate her for the post. I shall be happy to deal with questions of authority if they arise afterward, for they will mean I'm still on my feet and lying in a grave. As it is, we are so outnumbered I fear we are doomed unless Hrothgar can reach us before the end of the week. Now, where is that blasted scroll on the supply train?...Ah, thank you, Arya. Three more days without-"

Eragon ended the spell when the discussion turned towards a shortage of bowstrings. After that, he went on to scry Roran. I saw a man on a blank background, and I realized that it had to have been my cousin. He was garbed in travel worn clothes, a hammer was stuck under his belt, a thick beard obscured his face, and he bore a haunted expression. It was almost desperation that was on his face. After a while, Roran turned and walked along what must've been the deck of the ship, bringing dozens of other villagers into view.

_Where are they, and why is Jeod with them?_ Eragon demanded.

_Jeod was there?_

_Yes, didn't you see him?_

_Of course not; I've never met him._

_Oh._

I really wondered about him sometimes. He then scryed other cities – Teirm, Therinsford, Garrow's old farm, and the Carvahall. A wounded cry emitted from both of us at what we saw: the village was gone. Wiped out, burned to the ground. A sooty blot beside the Anora River.

The mirror dropped from Eragon's hand and shattered across the floor, and he leaned against Saphira. I pushed myself to my feet and left. There was someone I had to talk to, and I wanted to do it before Eragon decided to leave.

**I'm trying to get in as much as I can tonight, because tomorrow night I have an Academic Awards Ceremony I have to go to (because I'm such a braniac), and I think my dad might take me out to dinner, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I'm sorry these last few chapters haven't been as exciting as you'd like, but I'm working up to it. So, I'm going to go work on the next chapter now.**


	38. Chapter 38: Goodbye Restrictions

Briam joined me on my way to see Islanzadí. I couldn't wait around for Neneel to come to get me, because there was no way Eragon was going to wait to go bug Oromis about why he didn't tell him anything. If I'd been paying much attention, I would've noticed that the elves had been doing a lot of extra activity, and Rhunön was doing a lot more metalwork than she normally did.

When I arrived at Tialdarí Hall, I cursed when I realized that the gate was closed, and that I needed an elf to open it for me. How ironic it was when the gates opened up and Neneel stepped out. She looked surprised to see me, and she darted out of the way as I ran past her.

"Thank you Neneel!" I called over my shoulder.

A male elf came out, touched his lips with his first two fingers, and asked if he could help us. I asked to see the queen, and told him it was urgent. He left, and five minutes later the queen emerged, a drop of blood among her fellow elves, who were all adorned in white. I initiated the verse, and once it was all finished, I launched into my proposal.

"Your majesty, I wish to accompany my brother to Surda."

She looked at me as if I'd grown two heads.

"You know the agreement, Arianna. You are to stay here. Going to Surda is the last thing you should be doing. You know what would happen if _he _caught you? It's rumored that he himself will be present."

"I highly doubt that."

She cast me a critical eye. "And why would that be?"

"Because Briam was the last dragon egg. Galbatorix has his own Rider, so why would he himself need to fight?"

The elves around her gasped and looked at each other. Islanzadí became angry.

"What? Why didn't you inform me of this before?"

"Because there was no reason to at the time, Your Majesty. Please, Islanzadí, I must go! Eragon could use all the help he could get, especially if my suspicions are correct."

"Who is the other Rider?"

I didn't answer, and she repeated her question.

"I am not at liberty to say."

"What?"

I made up a lie. "I took an oath in the ancient language that I would not reveal the identity of his Rider, so I can't."

"Then you will have to remove your wards so that I might find out."

"No."

Why couldn't people understand that I kept my mind cut off from other people for a reason? That's what they all wanted in the end: access to my mind and memories and everything else. Islanzadí was a good monarch, but she wasn't that good. If she tried to pry in, she'd be no better than Galbatorix, and she knew it.

"You're not lying to me about the eggs?"

"Of course not."

Eragon flew in at this time, and he dismounted and approached, a look of confusion upon his face.

"What's going on?"

"Can I go?"

Islanzadí sighed, then nodded stiffly.

"I'm going with you, Eragon!"

I didn't stick around to hear his reaction. I said my goodbyes to Oromis and Glaedr on my way to the training field, and when I arrived, I found Orik seated on a bulging back, tossing his war ax from one hand to the other. He seemed to be in a foul mood.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Your brother wants me to fly on his dragon. Dwarves and dragons don't go together. That's why we were never a part of the agreement, and we're happy to be separate from it."

"Oh don't worry, Orik. Saphira won't let you fall. She's probably the best flier you'll ever see."

When he still seemed down, I darted forward and kissed his cheek.

"Relax Orik. It'll be fine."

"What's got you in such a happy mood?" he asked, wiping his cheek. His face had gone a little red, and I don't think he was quite over the shock yet.

"I get to go with you guys."

His eyes widened. "Three's a pretty large load for Saphira, wouldn't you say?"

A slow smile spread across my face. "Who said anything about Saphira taking me?"

Briam came to stand next to me, and I put a hand on the wide space at the base of his neck, where I'd be sitting for the next week. Oromis had helped me make a saddle for him a while ago in preparation for when he'd be big enough to fly, and now I was going to get to use it. Suddenly, a horrible thought hit me. _Vanilor!_

"I'll be right back!"

I dashed towards the tree, pulled out my pack from under the bed, and pulled out the sack with Vanilor in it. I noticed that there was a full pack on the chair in the kitchen, and then I noticed that Neneel was standing in the corner. I didn't know how she'd found out I was leaving, but it worked out great for me.

"Thank you, Neneel, for everything."

She simply smiled and touched her fingers to her lips before departing. Rushing back, I arrived just in time to watch Orik climb up Saphira's leg, and her snorting in response. I tied the sack onto the back of the saddle after I saddled Briam up, and then I strapped myself in.

_Ready?_

_Ready._

An elated cry burst forth from me as Briam took flight, and if my arms hadn't been strapped in, I would've spread my arms to the side and lifted my face to the sun. As it was, I could only do the lifting my face part. Briam followed Saphira, who angled herself toward the Hadarac Desert. Over the wind, I could hear an elf woman in Ellesméra singing:

_Away, away, you shall fly away,  
__O'er the peaks and vales  
__To the lands beyond.  
__Away, away, you shall fly,  
__And never return to me..._

I desperately hoped that that didn't come to pass.

**Aren't you guys proud of me? Three chapters in a day! Now I can relax a little - I just didn't want to leave you guys hanging tomorrow because of my ceremony. 6:30 is when they start serving the Hors d'oeruvres. I even had to go dress shopping this weekend (Yuck!) so I had something nice to wear. Incase you haven't noticed, I'm really nervous about this whole thing, but really excited at the same time. Anyway, Another exciting thing that's happened is that this story has gotten over 100 Reviews! I never dreamed I'd get one, let alone 100, so thank you guys! You're the best!**


	39. Chapter 39: Reunions

Briam didn't fly quite as fast as Saphira, and he couldn't go as long as she could, so it slowed us down a little. Eragon was getting impatient with Briam, but he didn't say anything, because he remembered how Saphira had been at his age. And I would've used some crafty magic to make him regret it. Briam already felt bad for slowing us down, and I wasn't about to let anyone say anything to him to make him feel worse.

Orik and Saphira played a nice riddle game. As I'd never been particularly fond of riddles, I opted out of playing. Briam seemed interested enough, and he avidly looked from one to the other as they argued back and forth. I was glad we were flying, as if we'd been on the road he would've strayed and probably run us into a tree. Up here, the worst he could hit was a cloud, and they were all over the place.

As we grew closer to Surda, Eragon and Saphira used the birds' memories to guide them to the Aberon, the capital. We reached Aberon in the late afternoon, and I watched my surroundings warily. However, I touched no one with my mind; I used my eyes and ears only. People were getting as far away as they could from the two descending dragons, and there were hushed whispers from them to their companions. They were afraid. I'm sure if I'd never seen a dragon before in my life and one was just coming out the sky to land in front of me, I'd be scared too.

A group of twelve men hurried out of the keep towards us. A tall man with dark skin like Nasuada's led them, and I felt a pang in my heart. I would get to see my friend soon enough. Unless Arya had told her, she naturally assumed I was dead. I hoped that she had.

The group stopped ten paces away – didn't want to get too close – and bowed. The leader said, "Welcome, Riders. I am Dahwar, son of Kedar. I am King Orrin's seneschal."

My brother inclined his head. "And I, Eragon Shadeslayer, son of none."

"And I, Orik, Thrifk's son."

_And I, Saphira, daughter of Vervada_.

"And I, Arianna Selenasdaughter," I said, inclining my head in the same manner as my brother.

_And I, Briam, son of Fundor_, Briam said, using me as a mouthpiece.

Dahwar bowed again. "I apologize that no one of higher rank than myself is present to greet guests as noble as you, but King Orrin, Lady Nasuada, and all the Varden have long since marched to confront Galbatorix's army." My brother nodded, and the man continued. "They left orders that if you came here seeking them, you should join them directly, for your prowess is needed if we are to prevail."

"Can you show us on a map how to find them?" my brother asked. I let him do all the talking. I was better behind the scenes than out in the spotlight.

"Of course, sir. While I have that fetched, would you care to step out of the heat and partake of some refreshments?"

Eragon shook his head. "We have no time to waste. Besides, it is not I who needs to see the map but Saphira, and I doubt she would fit in your halls."

I snickered at the seneschal's reaction. He blinked, ran his eyes over Saphira quickly, then said, "Quite right sir. In either case, our hospitality is yours. If there is aught you and your companions desire, you have but to ask."

I felt something click in my brother's head, and watched with amusement as he took advantage of his high status position to get a week's worth of provisions and refilled waterskins. Orik added in what he'd like, and I remained silent. I would eat the foods that Eragon had asked for. Meat wasn't for me, or any other Rider who was connected to all living things.

I didn't pay too much attention to what else went on. There was a strange feeling inside of me, and it was unnerving. I looked around in all directions, and, upon seeing nothing, cautiously opened up my mind. I was prepared to block it off at a moment's notice.

Eragon and Orik climbed off Saphira, packed up the stuff, and got back on. As we were preparing to leave, Eragon told them that two grooms in the stables had gotten into an argument, and that one of them intended to commit murder. It was then that I found the reason for my unsettlement. A little girl played near the well, and she was on the verge of falling in. Just a little bit further, and she'd be over the edge.

"Sir! There's a little girl by the well – have someone pull her back, and quickly, _before_ she falls in!"

My eyes, anxious, searched for her little voice again. Someone was running her way – a soldier. He saw her on the well, still leaning, and as she began to fall, he grabbed the back of her dress and hauled her to safety. I breathed a sigh of relief.

_You see, sometimes it's good to open your mind._

_Sometimes_, I agreed. The panic hadn't worn off. The well had been deep, like a bottomless pit in the child's eyes. I shuddered, wished I had a blanket.

Eragon looked at me with concern, but we flew on towards the Varden's location. Eragon asked me if I wanted to stop for the night. I told him no, and we flew through the night. It was late morning when we arrived at the Burning Plains.

The dragons descended through layers of smoke, and all the fumes made me cough so hard I thought I might hack up a lung. Tears stung my eyes. Beside me, I heard a similar reaction from Eragon. The air got clearer the closer we got to the bottom. It was a terrible sight to behold. To the north, Galbatorix's army measured three miles and who knows how many miles it went in the other direction. To the south, the Varden and the men of Surda were entrenched behind multiple defensive layers, and between the two armies lay a two mile stretch of bare land.

Saphira and Briam emerged over the bare expanse of land, angled themselves toward the Varden as fast as they dared. Here, I decided I should probably put my mind to work. I felt no enemy magicians, but I did feel an overwhelming panic from the Varden's sentinels. I cursed, and watched Eragon as the idiots let their arrows loose.

"Letta orya thorna!" he yelled. The arrows froze, and with a flick of his wrist, and another useful word in the ancient language, he redirected them. He really was getting better at the whole magic-using thing. I was proud of him. One arrow was missed, though, because it's owner had been a little late. I reached out with my left hand and snatched it before it hit my face and handed it to Eragon, who had reached for it. He was lucky he didn't grab it, because I would've hit him back twice as hard for smacking me in the face.

We flew to the ground faster then, and Orik quickly dismounted, complaining all the while. I recognized someone at least: Frederic. He barked orders at the men who stood around gawking, and I smiled. This was the man who had taught me how to fight with a sword. He might've been bear sized, but he had a generous, protective streak in him.

He looked at me in shock, then pulled me into a hug. "You're alive! And they've changed you too, huh? Wonderful!" He hadn't noticed the small baby bump, and it was nice for a change. I'd become so accustomed to the elves noticing it right off the bat that it was surprising that no one noticed it.

"Welcome Shadeslayer. You've arrived just in time...I can't tell you how ashamed I am you were attacked. The honor of every man here has been blackened by this mistake. Were the five of you hurt?"

"No."

Relief spread across his features. "Well, there's that to be grateful for. I've had the men responsible pulled from duty. They'll each be whipped and reduced in rank...Will that punishment satisfy you, Rider?"

"I want to see them," Eragon said.

At first I was alarmed, as Frederic was, but when I saw the plan in Eragon's head, I smiled widely, but I had no desire to go along with him. I wanted to see my good friend, and the current leader of the Varden.

"Frederic, where do I go to find Nasuada?"

He gave me directions, still looking slightly frightened at the prospect of Eragon's "punishment" and I headed off to find her. It wasn't tough to figure out which one was hers. It was a large red pavilion flying a pennant embroidered with a black shield and two parallel swords slanting underneath. I pulled back the flap and entered quietly, Briam right behind me.

A broad table occupied the center of the furnished tent. Nasuada stood at one end, leaning on her hands, studying a slew of maps and scrolls. Arya stood opposite her, and they were both dressed as men for battle. Nasuada's head turned toward me, and it saddened me to see that she didn't recognize me.

"Nasuada, it's me." When no immediate recognition sprang to her face, I tried again. "Arianna. Do you forget your friends so quickly, my lady?"

Her face became surprised, and she looked at Arya in disbelief.

"She was with you in Ellesméra?"

"Yes."

She turned to me then before rushing to embrace me.

"How did you survive?"

"The Urgals only faked my death with the others. They took me to Galbatorix, and from there, with inside help, I escaped to Ellesméra."

I didn't think she had room on her face for any more shock, but apparently she did.

"That's amazing!" Then she stopped dead and looked at the dragon that was standing behind me. With a laugh, I realized he was trying to hide for the first time in his life.

"Briam, come here and say hello."

He stuck his head over my shoulder and left it there.

"Another dragon..." she murmured, tears in her eyes. "This really is a wonderful day. Where is Eragon?"

It was at that moment in time that the flap was once again lifted, and this time Eragon strolled in, and Saphira stuck her head in. Briam went to stand by her. Soon enough, he'd be as limited with space as she was now.

"Eragon?" she whispered.

He twisted his hand over his sternum in the elves' gesture of fealty and bowed. "At your service."

"Eragon!" She sounded delighted and relieved. Arya, I noted, looked pleased as well.

I tuned out as they chattered away, but then I sensed a strange mind approaching, and in alarm, I turned toward the rear of the pavilion. There was a little girl standing there, with black hair and violet eyes. She watched Eragon curiously. It didn't take long for him to turn toward her as well.

"Welcome, Shadeslayer. Welcome Saphira. Welcome Arianna and Briam." Her voice was strange. It belonged to an adult, yet this was simply a child. I didn't understand, until she moved her bangs, and I saw the silvery mark on her forehead. A gasp escaped, and I moved to swat Eragon on the back of the head when she was finished explaining what he'd done. Then I decided not to, as it would only cause her more suffering.

I listened intently as he proposed to fix her, and listened with even more astonishment as she refused, for Nasuada's protection. It was then that I decided I very much liked this child, who, if not for Eragon's curse, would still be a baby. Feeling drained from the day, and not being obligated at the moment to tag along to meet king Orrin, I asked Nasuada where I could stay.

"Stay here for now. I'll have your own tent set up as soon as I can."

As they left, I sat down on a small stool and looked at Briam.

_What do you want to do when it comes time to battle?_

_Fight_.

That was good, because that'd been my plan all along.

**Sorry there wasn't an update yesterday, though I think I was covered anyway from the other day. My grandma gave me a book to read by Nora Roberts, and I just had to finish it. I don't know what it is about her books that's so addicting, but once I start, I have a hard time putting it down to do anything else. Most of the time, I don't. Anyway, the Ceremony went pretty well - my dad took a bunch of pictures - and having friends there with me helped too. Hope you guys liked this chapter (five pages long on Microsoft Word, if anyone's interested). I've got a pretty busy couple of weeks coming up, but hopefully it won't interrupt my writing schedule. If it does, you'll know why. (Review, review, review! My school's not out yet.)**


	40. Chapter 40: Du Vrangr Gata

My brother asked me to accompany him to meet with the Varden's idiot spellcaster group. Du Vrangr Gata; the name irritated me more than anything else, because they were supposed to be the Varden's protectors, and they couldn't even form the words in the correct order. Imagine if they put a spell in that sort of order. Something somewhere would backfire. There were a million different possibilities of bad outcomes to choose from.

I watched, amused, as the little ignorant army marched out of the tent, lead by Trianna, and then their reactions as they took us in.

"Shadeslayer, Saphira." She looked at Briam and I, and inclined her head stiffly. "You should have told us sooner that you were here. We've been preparing to confront and battle what we thought was a mighty foe."

I snorted. What, were they doing their little voodoo rituals in there? It probably took her so long because they were all scared to death. If there'd been a threat, it would've already come and went in the time span that Eragon and I had been here. He'd already stopped to talk with Angela, not to mention Orrin before that, and I knew that that in itself had taken up plenty of time. And if they had been properly trained in magic, they could've sensed the intentions of the ones around them anyway.

Trianna glared at me, but kept her focus on my brother.

"I didn't mean to upset you, but we had to report to Nasuada and King Orrin immediately after we landed."

"And why have you graced us with your presence now? You never deigned to visit us before, we are more your brethren than any in the Varden."

"No one is more his brethren than me, and he's closer now to an elf than to a human. At least they know what that which they talk about. Who are you, besides a snooty girl who talks about what she doesn't understand?"

"You little-"

Eragon cut her off. "I have come to take command of Du Vrangr Gata."

I watched as many of them muttered with surprise, and had the satisfaction of watching Trianna stiffen. She didn't want to give up power. She wasn't as horrible as the Twin's, but she wasn't going to be able to stop the two of them with her little group. I also noticed that two men and a woman flinched and averted their gazes. I looked at Eragon curiously, and he lifted up one shoulder a little in a shrug.

"By whose order?" the whiny brat demanded.

"By Nasuada's."

Watching that smug smile spread across her face when she heard that made me want to put all the words I knew in the ancient language to creative good use. I could be very inventive when I was angry...

"I'm sure Nasuada would be surprised to hear that, after everything she, and her father, have done for Du Vrangr Gata."

I flinched. That stupid name again.

"It might give her the impression that you no longer wanted the support and protection of the Varden." My brother paused a moment, and I smiled a little as I saw that little threat sink in.

"Besides, I seem to remember you were willing to me this post before. Why not now?"

Because she likes being in charge, duh. My brother was so slow sometimes. Just like our father was. I got the quick witted jeans from our mother, thank god.

"You refused my offer, Shadeslayer...or have you forgotten?" Her eyebrow was lifted, and a trace of defensiveness coated her words as they came out.

"Why does Nasuada believe you should command us anyway? Surely you and Saphira would be more useful elsewhere."

"So we have a small chance at victory," I muttered. Eragon cast me a sharp look, which was priceless, coming from him.

_Watch your tongue, little one_.

_I believe that I'm older than you, and if worse came to worse, I could totally take you down_.

Briam simply laughed at my threat.

"Nasuada wants me to lead you, Du Vrangr Gata, in the coming battle, and so I shall." I was proud of Eragon for once. He was becoming a leader – a slow, dimwitted one at times, but a leader nonetheless.

Trianna pointed at the pathetic group of spellcasters behind her. I shouldn't judge them so harshly, I knew, but I was just extremely irritated with everything about them and what they stood for, which was mostly just to tarnish the Varden's reputation.

_I thought you were going to try and be nice_.

"We have devoted our lives in the study of our art. You have been casting spells for less than two years. What makes you more qualified for this task than any of us?"

"Gee, maybe the fact that he's learned more in less than two years than you have studying your whole life."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you know of this? You've been casting spells the same time span he has."

Now it was my time to glare. "I've been studying the ancient language, its roots, and how to use it since I was eight, under Brom's guidance."

Her eyes widened, but I didn't say anything further. Let her make of that what she will.

_Are you quite done yet?_ my brother asked me.

_I guess so_.

Trianna went on with her sentence. "No matter. Tell me: What is your strategy? How do you plan to employ us?"

"My plan is simple. The lot of you will join minds and search for enemy spellcasters. When you find one, I'll add my strength to yours, and together we can crush the spellcaster's resistance. Then we can slay the troops that previously were protected by his or her wards."

"And what will you be doing the rest of the time?"

"Fighting alongside Saphira."

There was an awkward silence, after which a man behind her said, "It's a good plan." He quailed as she turned her angry glare on him. I smirked, and watched as she turned back to my brother.

"Ever since the Twins died, I have led Du Vrangr Gata. Under my guidance, they have provided the means to fund the Varden's war effort, ferreted out the Black Hand – Galbatorix's network of spies that tried to assassinate Nasuada – as well as performing innumerable other services. I do not boast when I say these are no mean accomplishments."

Yeah, right.

"And I'm certain I can continue to produce such results...Why, then, does Nasuada want to depose me? How have I displeased her?"

"It might have something to do with your constant arguing and complaining."

_Stop that! You're only making it worse! I have to rectify this somehow, and I'll never do that if you keep angering her this way._

_Fine_, I snapped.

"I didn't come here to stir up trouble," he said after some time. "I came to ask for your help."

That was his mighty plan? Make the inferior feel needed? Oh, it would win her over all right. I was going to have to give him a nice biff on the head later, that was all.

"I am strong, yes. Saphira and I, with Arianna and Briam, could probably defeat any number of Galbatorix's pet magicians. But we cannot protect everyone in the Varden. We cannot _be_ everywhere. And if the Empire's battle-mages join forces against us, then even we will be hard-pressed to survive...We cannot fight this battle alone. You are quite right, Trianna – you have done well with Du Vrangr Gata-"

"Even if you can't fix the name," I interjected. He threw me an angry glance as he continued.

"And I'm not here to usurp your authority. It's only that – as a magician – I need to work with Du Vrangr Gata, and – as a Rider – I may also need to give you orders, orders that I have to know will be obeyed without question. The chain of command must be established."

It already is, brother. Nasuada is your liege lord.

"That said, you will retain the greater part of your autonomy. Most times I'll be too busy to devote my attention to Du Vrangr Gata. Nor do I intend to ignore your counsel, for I'm aware that you have far more experience than I...So I ask again, will you help us, for the good of the Varden?"

The bumbling, power tight girl paused, and then bowed. "Of course, Shadeslayer – for the good of the Varden. It will be an honor to have you lead Du Vrangr Gata."

"Then let us begin."

I stood by for the next few hours with Briam, stepping in now and again to help Eragon. To appease Trianna, he appointed her his lieutenant. That didn't bother me in the slightest, for I was Eragon's equal.

_You've got some issues_, Briam said.

_Yeah, well you would too if you'd spent the better part of nine, almost ten years devoted to protecting your brother, and had many mishaps because of it._

_Yes, but if you hadn't, then I might never have hatched._

I watched as a runner came running up to Eragon and I. He told us that Nasuada had requested our presence. "An' I think you'd better hurry, Shadeslayer, if you don't mind me saying so."

Following alongside Briam, behind Eragon and Saphira, we rushed to Nasuada's tent.


	41. Chapter 41: Unexpected Allies

As I walked inside the pavilion with Eragon and Briam, Saphira sticking her nose in behind us, we were met by a steely rasp as Jörmundur and a half-dozen men drew their swords.

"It must be very important indeed, if our own allies are pointing swords at us," I muttered.

They lowered them as Nasuada called us over, and Jörmundur threw me an apologetic glance.

"What is your bidding?"

"Our scouts report that a company of some hundred Kull approach from the northeast."

My brother frowned, and I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking of ways to kill them. If it was as simple as "Oh, how do we kill them?" I'm pretty sure that this nice little group wouldn't be so tense, or even in existence for that matter.

"It will be a pleasure to eliminate them. Saphira and I can handle it by ourselves, if you want."

"We can't do that, Eragon. They're flying a white flag, and they have asked to talk with me."

I watched my brother's face as he gaped at her. Such composure.

"Surely you don't intend to grant them an audience?"

"I will offer them the same courtesies I would to any foe who arrives under the banner of truce."

"They're brutes though. Monsters! It's folly to allow them into the camp...Nasuada, I have seen the atrocities the Urgals commit. They relish pain and suffering and deserve no more mercy than a rabid dog. There is no need for you to waste your time over what is surely a trap. Just give the word and I and every last one of your warriors will be more than willing to kill these foul creatures for you."

"In this, I agree with Eragon." Jörmundur said. "If you won't listen to us, Nasuada, at least listen to him."

"Don't you remember anything Oromis taught you?" I asked him quietly, at the same time that Nasuada was leaning over to say, "Your training is indeed unfinished if you are so blinded."

I met her gaze and nodded my agreement. A small smile briefly graced her lips before she turned to the rest of the congregation.

"You all forget that I fought Farthen Dûr, the same as you, and that I saw the savagery of the Urgals...However, I also saw our own men commit acts just as heinous. I shall not denigrate what we have endured at the Urgal's hands, but neither shall I ignore potential allies when we are so greatly outnumbered by the Empire." She sounded just like her father.

"My Lady, it's too dangerous for you to meet with a Kull."

"Too dangerous?" My friend lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. "While I am protected by Eragon, Saphira, Elva, Arianna, and all the warriors around me? I think not."

_Arianna, say something! You're her friend; make her stop this nonsense._

_You're being an idiot, Eragon. Kull are different, yes, and they like fighting, but if you'd paid any attention at all to what Oromis has told you, you'd understand that this meeting will benefit us in the long run. _

Nasuada had her guards tie back the front and sides of the pavilion, allowing Saphira to stand beside Eragon, and all the rest of the Varden to watch. Eragon and I stood at her right hand, Elva at her left. Jörmundur made sure that the Kull had to walk between them in order to seek an audience with her.

Five minutes later, the Kull entered the camp from the east. That's where the uproar began, and from there it came closer until a single Kull entered our view. The mob kept taunting him, and my eyes flashed angrily. This was ridiculous. We were all on the same side here. At least for the moment. For some, a this moment would be all they had before the battle, because not everyone was going to make it out alive.

I watched as Eragon's mouth tightened into a grimace of hate, and I let my irritation be known with a quick elbow to his ribs.

_His mind is strongly shielded_. Eragon sounded surprised.

_They may be brutes, but they're not stupid_, I sniffed.

The Urgal stopped at the edge of the pavilion, and Nasuada had the guards shout for the crowd to hush themselves. Then he lifted his massive arms to the sky, inhaled, and bellowed at Nasuada. Their way of greeting a war chief. Of course, all of the ignorant morons here pointed their weapons at him, but he paid them no mind, and kept going until he couldn't anymore. Then he looked at Nasuada and asked, "What treachery is this, Lady Nightstalker? I was promised safe passage. Do humans break their word so easily?"

One of Nasuada's commanders leaned toward her and said, "Let us punish him, Mistress, for his insolence. Once we have taught him the meaning of respect, _then_ you can hear his message, whatever it is."

"Touch him, and I'll rip you apart one limb at a time."

Nasuada looked at me, surprised by the vehemence in my voice.

Eragon quickly leaned over to explain. "Don't take offense. This is how they greet their war chiefs. The proper response is to then butt heads, but I don't think you want to try that."

"Did the elves teach you this?"

"Aye."

That was all he had to say for what Oromis taught him? I would never understand the way his brain worked, which was sad, considering I'd been in there many times.

"What else did they teach you of the Urgals?"

"A great deal." He sounded reluctant, and he was lucky I didn't jab him again.

She then spoke to the Kull, but I had a feeling the message was for the Varden as well.

"The Varden are not liars like Galbatorix and the Empire. Speak your mind; you need fear no danger while we hold council under the conditions of truce."

He grunted and stuck his chin higher into the air, baring his throat. A sign of friendship in their world.

"I am Nar Garzhvog of the Bolvek tribe. I speak for my people. Urgals are hated more than any other race. Elves, dwarves, humans all hunt us, burn us, and drive us from our halls."

"Not without good reason," Nasuada said. I cringed and hoped he didn't take offense.

"Not without reason," he said after nodding. "Our people love war. Yet how often are we attacked just because you find us as ugly as we find you? We have thrived since the fall of the Riders. Our tribes are now so large, the harsh land we live on can no longer feed us."

"So you made a pact with Galbatorix?"

"Aye, Lady Nightstalker. He promised us good land if we killed his enemies. He tricked us, though. His flame-haired shaman, Durza, bent the minds of our war chiefs and forced our tribes to work together, as is not our way. When we learned this in the dwarves' hollow mountain, the Herndall, the dams who rule us, sent my brood mate to Galbatorix to ask why he used us so. She did not return."

Thinking back, I did remember an Urgal seeking audience with the bastard. Not surprisingly, he had her killed. No one knew why she'd been there in the first place. Now we did, though.

"Our finest Rams died for Galbatorix, then he abandoned us like a broken sword. He is _drajl_ and snake-tongued and a lack-horned betrayer. Lady Nightstalker, we are fewer now, but we will fight with you if you let us."

I shivered, and Eragon put an arm around me. I wasn't cold though; I was feeling sorry for Garzhvog.

"What is the price? Your Herndall must want something in return." Nasuada said. I can't imagine they wanted too much, since they were both offering their services and were a people of war.

"Blood. Galbatorix's blood. And if the Empire falls, we ask that you give us land, land for breeding and growing, land to avoid more battles in the future."

Nasuada's course was set, sealed by the expression on her face. Jörmundur tried once more to deter her.

"Nasuada, you can't do this. It goes against nature."

"Nature can't help us defeat the Empire. We _need _allies."

I smiled at her comment.

"The men will desert before they'll fight with Urgals."

"That can be worked around. Eragon, will they keep their word?"

"Of course!" I whispered.

"Only so long as we share a common enemy," Eragon told her, looking at me warily.

_You're going insane._

_Why? Because I look for the good in them? If you tried to look past your grievances, you would see that they're not so different from us._

_Would you say the same about Galbatorix?_

_Absolutely not; that's not even the same comparison. _

_Might as well be._

I flipped my head back around. For the entirety of our silent argument, we'd held our eyes locked together and glared.

"Very well, Nar Garzhvog. You and your warriors may bivouac along the eastern flank of our army, away from the main body, and we shall discuss the terms of our pact."

"Ahgrat ukmar," he growled, clapping his fists to his brow. "You are a wise Herndall, Lady Nightstalker."

"Why do you call me that?"

"Herndall?"

"No, Nightstalker."

Garzhvog laughed. At least, I think it was laughter. The way his voice was – all hard and flemy like – made it kind of hard to tell.

"Nightstalker is the name we gave your sire because of how he hunted us in the dark tunnels under the dwarf mountain and because of the color of his hide. As his cub, you are worthy of the same name." That said, he turned on his heel and strode out of the camp.

I could tell that that touched her when she stood and proclaimed, "Anyone who attacks the Urgals shall be punished as if he attacked a fellow human. See that word of this is posted in every company."

I followed my brother's gaze and watched, humored, as King Orrin came flapping towards us. He was running, but the way his cape moved around him was what I found amusing. When he was close enough, he wasted no time in demanding answers.

"Nasuada! Is it true that you met with an Urgal? What do you mean by it, and why wasn't I alerted sooner? I don't-"

A sentry emerging from the ranks of gray tents cut him off. "A horseman approaches from the Empire!"

What a busy day this was turning out to be. Nasuada and Orrin hurried toward the vanguard of the army. There was about a hundred people on their trail. I followed Eragon's lead and climbed on Briam's back to fly there.

The dragons halted at the ramparts, trenches, and rows of sharpened poles that protected the Varden's leading edge. A lone soldier rode extremely fast through no-man's land, and the vultures circled around him, hoping for a good meal.

He stopped about thirty feet away before shouting what he'd been told to say at us.

"By refusing King Galbatorix's generous terms of surrender-"

No such thing.

"You choose death as your fate. No more shall we negotiate. The hand of friendship has turned into the fist of war! If any of you still hold regard for your rightful sovereign, the all-knowing, all-powerful King Galbatorix, then flee! None may stand before us once we set forth to cleanse Alagaësia of every miscreant, traitor, and subversive. And though it pains our lord – for he knows that most of these rebellious acts are instigated by bitter and misguided leaders-"

Now it was my turn for my lip to curl into a grimace of hate.

"We shall gently chastise the unlawful territory known as Surda and return it to the benevolent rule of King Galbatorix, he who sacrifices himself day and night for the good of his people. So flee, I say, or suffer the doom of your herald!"

I saw a hint of recognition in his eyes when he saw me, and then he untied a canvas sack and flourished a severed head. He threw it into the air, watched it fall among the Varden, looked at me one last time, and then turned his stallion and galloped away. I recognized that soldier; he was one of Galbatorix's favorites. I hated his guts.

"Shall I kill him?" my brother so kindly offered. It seemed that he was in a killing kind of mood today.

Shaking her head, Nasuada replied, "We will have our due soon enough. I won't violate the sanctity of envoys, even if the Empire has."

"As you-"

A surprised yelp escaped him as Saphira reared above the ramparts and planted her legs on the chartreuse bank. From there, she opened up her jaws and gave a long, deep roar. It was a defiant challenge to our enemies, a warning of the wrath they had roused, and a clarion call to all who hated Galbatorix.

It startled the horse, who slipped and fell, launching the bastard soldier into a gout of fire that erupted at that very instant. The sound was utterly horrible, but well worth the result.

_Looks like the birds will get that meal after all._

Briam didn't respond; he was too busy admiring Saphira.

The Varden cheered Saphira, and I saw another small smile grace Nasuada's lips before she fell back to the serious business routine.

"They will attack at dawn, I think. Eragon, gather Du Vrangr Gata and prepare yourself for action. I will have orders for you within the hour." She turned to me, studying me, I assumed. "Ask Frederic for a sword."

A fierce smile spread across my face, and I nodded.

Meanwhile, she took Orrin aside and began to speak.

"Sire, there are decisions we must make. I have a certain plan, but it will require..."

_Let's go!_

Together, Briam and I set off in search of Frederic, and a new sword.


	42. Chapter 42: Waiting

_The calm before the storm_.

I snorted at Briam's comment.

_Yeah right. The calm before the storm thing happened back before the battle in Farthen Dûr. This here ain't no calm before the storm. Do these people running around look __**calm**__ to you?_

All around us, people prepared for battle. Frederic had given me another sword – I don't know where he managed to conjure up another feminine sword – and managed to outfit me in battle gear. Now, for us, the only thing left to do was wait. I knew first hand that waiting was, well, boring. Obviously there was no dragon armor for Briam, but that was fine with him. Not so fine with me, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

I decided to go hunt down my brother. It wasn't too difficult to find him; he was still in his tent, which was propped up across from mine. It was just a matter of walking myself over there. Briam went and crouched down beside Saphira, and I joined Eragon and Orik.

"What do you think about Nasuada and the Urgals?" Eragon was asking Orik.

"She made the right choice."

"You agree with her!" he exclaimed, at the same time I was shoving a fist into the air and proclaiming victory. He shot me a withering look, but I could care less.

"I do. I don't like it any more than you, but I do."

Eragon had nothing more to say after that. He generally didn't after he was shot down. It seemed that his reaction was the same no matter the source.

An hour later, my brother sat up quickly, shook Orik awake, and told us what his problem was. Apparently, Angela and Solembum were coming back from no-man's land.

"I've only met the herbalist a few times, but she didn't seem like the sort who would betray us. She's been welcome among the Varden for decades." Orik commented.

"Of course she wouldn't," I inputted, indignant. Eragon looked at both of us before speaking.

"We should still find out what she was doing."

As we trekked through the camp to intercept them, my brain was whirling.

_They couldn't possibly be traitors, right? I mean, after everything they've done for us, for the Varden...it's a ridiculous notion!_

_We'll find out soon enough._

Briam's comment did little to soothe my anxieties. In fact, he only added to them. The more I tried to convince myself that it was impossible, the more Angela's quirks came through as possible fronts for some sort of treachery. Even her good deeds could've sprouted from evil intentions...

These were my feelings as I watched them spring through all the defenses. Angela's jolly spirits as she took us in only added to the suspicion.

"A welcoming committee! How thoughtful of you."

Solembum transformed from shaggy haired cat to shaggy haired boy, and Angela proceeded to hand him a tunic, breeches, and the little dagger he fought with. Who had been killed at his hands? Our enemies, us? Why of all nights was this the night for all the uncertain thoughts? If there was danger, why hadn't I seen it? Unless there was no danger...

"What were you doing out there?" Orik wasted no time in cutting to the chase.

"Oh, this and that."

That sounded so convincing.

"I think you better tell us," my brother told her.

Her face hardened. "Is that so? Don't you trust Solembum and me?" The aforementioned cat bared his teeth.

"Not really," Eragon said, but the small smile on his face wasn't convincing anyone.

"That's good," she told him anyways, patting his cheek. "You'll live longer. If you must know, then, I was doing my best to help defeat the Empire, only _my_ methods don't involve yelling and running around with a sword."

"And what exactly are your methods?" Once again, Orik wasn't satisfied with her answers.

"I'd rather not say; I want it to be a surprise. You won't have to wait long to find out. It'll start in a few hours."

At her utterance, I was propelled forward, and was subjected to the torment of listening to horrific screams and pitiful moans of agony from the Empire side of the Burning Plains. Angela's voice entered the vision.

_"Aye. I poisoned their stew, their bread, their drink – anything I could get my hands on. Some will die now, others will die later as the various toxins take their toll. I slipped the officers nightshade and other such poisons so they will hallucinate in battle."_

I jumped at the hand that was on my shoulder, and my eyes flew open to meet with Angela's.

_You have seen what I have done?_

_Yes._ Another shudder worked its way up my spine, down my arms, tingled in my fingers. _It was so horrible, but I understand why you did it._

_But you see the future?_

I didn't understand why she was so interested in what I saw. It made little difference to anyone else. How had she known, anyway? No one else knew. I asked her.

_That's for me to know. Interesting...very interesting._

_What's interesting?_

Her eyes danced, but she shook her head. Looking around, I realized that I'd been out of it for a little while, since I was standing amidst a small group of Urgals. I recognized Nar Garzhvog quickly enough, and was about to incline my head in greeting, but realized in time that that would only offend him, so I jutted my chin up instead. He repeated the gesture, and they all looked delighted when Angela started speaking to them in their own language. It seemed that she had a great many talents up her sleeve.

As Eragon approached, I noted his mood seemed sour, and eavesdropped on his conversation with Saphira.

It wasn't much of a conversation. Eragon was thinking that they were lesser beings, and Saphira whispered, _I'm sure that Galbatorix is of the same opinion._

_And for good reason_.

_That's the worst thing you could possibly say!_ I shouted, pouring all of the disappointment, anger, and sorrow I could muster into that one thought. Whether it affected him any or not was hard to tell.

"Nar Garzhvog, I am told that the four of you agreed to allow me within your minds."

"That is so, Firesword. Lady Nightstalker told us what was required. We are honored to have the chance to battle alongside such a mighty warrior, and one who has done so much for us."

I shot a look at my brother, who was quickly retorting, "What do you mean? I have killed scores of your kin."

_That was real nice._

He didn't answer me; he was too busy remembering things from the scrolls that Oromis had given him to study from. I'd read them as well.

"By killing Durza, you freed us from his control. We are in your debt, Firesword. None of our rams will challenge you, and if you visit our halls, you and the dragon, Flametongue, will be welcomed as no outsiders ever before."

That was more than my idiot, racist brother deserved.

"I won't forget."

That was all he could come up with?

"I thank you, for thinking so highly of my brother." How I longed to elbow him in the ribs.

I remained linked to him as he examined Nar Garzhvog's mind, and felt very much like gloating as Eragon failed to come to terms with what he had seen. An Urgal mother brushing her son's hair and singing to him, his first hunt, and other such things that were very similar to things we did. Now they were not so strange to him, and he didn't know what to do with that knowledge. So he went to the other three, and found that their stories were very much the same as the first. No lies, no tricks, nothing. How that must have bruised his ego; these _animals_ being smart enough to come to the conclusion that they and the Varden had a common enemy, and that it was worthless to spend time and energy fighting each other. That their way of life was not so brutal after all.

When everything was finished, Eragon looked at Nar Garzhvog and bared his throat.

"Nar Garzhvog, I am proud to have you at my side. You may tell the Herndall that so long as the Urgals remain true to their word and do not turn against the Varden, I shall not oppose you."

I was proud of my brother. I let him know so by giving him a wide smile.

"Again, we are in your debt, Firesword," Garzhvog said. The Urgals pressed their fists against their jutting brows.

Eragon talked quickly with Nasuada, and she hurried off to somewhere. She was different now, yet still the same. Leadership suited her; all the times she'd maneuvered her father's enemies and learning from her father firsthand might have had something to do with it.

I had to fight very hard to keep my temper in check after Orik made yet another comment regarding the Urgals.

"I thought you agreed with Nasuada's accepting the Urgal's offer." Eragon raised an eyebrow toward his foster brother. I didn't care who he was at the moment; he was in my red spectrometer.

"That doesn't mean I trust them or want to be right alongside them, now does it?"

"I'm sure the feeling is mutual for them, but they're sucking it up quite nicely, unlike the men of the Varden and the dwarves," I snarled.

_Relax, little one. _Briam nudged my arm with his snout, and I let myself be pacified this once. If he didn't learn to keep his yap shut soon – better yet, if they all didn't learn to keep their yaps shut – I was going to use the ancient language to whip them into shape. I'd have them running home to their mommy's. For most of them, I'm sure it would be a long trip.

I watched Eragon warily as he cast wards around himself, Saphira, Nasuada, Orik, and Arya. He turned to look at Briam and I, and I glared at him.

"Briam and I can take care of ourselves. So can Arya, for that matter. I'm sure she's quite adept at the art of casting a simple protection ward." My voice was quite acidic by the end, and he shrugged. "But if you want to die trying to protect everyone with magic, be my guest." No point in telling him that I'd already cast wards around him. He wouldn't lose quite so much energy as he would by himself, as I'd made it so that Briam and I took the biggest energy decrease.

At around dawn, the screams began. My earlier vision hadn't done much to prepare me in all actuality. The four of us – Eragon, Saphira, Briam, and I – heard the screams first. It didn't take long for them to travel to the rest. Orik was on his feet, asking questions as usual.

"I told you that you wouldn't have to wait very long," Angela told him. It was a relief to see that she took no pleasure in the knowledge that she'd done this; far from it. She was pale, drawn, and gray in the face.

Eragon turned to look at her from Saphira's back. "_You_ did this?"

The words from my vision came to my ears directly now.

"Aye. I poisoned their stew, their bread, their drink – anything I could get my hands on. Some will die now, others will die later as the various toxins take their toll. I slipped the officers nightshade and other such poisons so that they will hallucinate in battle." A failed attempt at a smile. "Not a very honorable way to fight, I suppose, but I'd rather do this than be killed. Confusion to our enemies and all that."

"Only a coward or a thief uses poison!" Orik exclaimed.

I looked at him dryly. "Well, Angela is neither, so I guess your theory just went out the window."

He ignored me and plundered on. "What glory is there in defeating a sick opponent?" The screams intensified. My skin crawled.

"Glory?" Angela gave a harsh laugh. "If you want glory, there are thousands more troops I didn't poison. I'm sure you will have your fill of _glory_ by the end of today."

Oh, many would die today, of that I was sure. But I would do everything in my power to ensure that it was not anyone that I cared about. My thoughts drifted briefly to Murtagh, and some of the last words he'd said to me.

"_Murtagh, get the last egg." _

_He looked confused. "Why-?"_

_"It's mine! It's going to hatch, and I don't want it anywhere near Galbatorix. He's been here too long. I can't risk leaving him here."_

_"So you can help Eragon bring me down?" he asked, a hard edge to his voice._

_"You know me better than that," I told him. I'd do anything I could to help get him out of here. If only I knew how._

If he was here...I didn't want to think about it.

_Can you kill him?_

Briam's words echoed in my head. Could I kill my own brother? I looked down at my baby bump, and I believed I had my answer.

**So, I'm sure that you can guess what the next chapter will bring you....Sorry it took until now to write. I had an eye exam today, and they dilated my eyes. Let me tell you, that was not fun. It wasn't the dilating part that was bad; I couldn't _read_. I've always been able to read, with or without my glasses or contacts, since I'm nearsighted. Today, I experienced what it would be like to be farsighted. It sucked. Anyway, you can obviously tell that it's worn off now, since I can actually read what I'm typing into the address bar to get here and what I'm typing now, and I'll stop now, since all I'm doing is rambling. :)**


	43. Chapter 43: Battle On the Plains

It was dawn when the Varden began to stir. I clambered on Briam's back and accompanied Eragon and Saphira to the opening that had been cleared during the night. Quietly, the Varden poured through the gap; they wore their armor and had their weapons padded with rags, to avoid alerting the enemy to their presence. Briam and Saphira joined the procession when Nasuada appeared on a roan charger in the midst of the men, Arya, and Trianna. My two favorite people. Not.

I nodded my head briefly to acknowledge their existence, and turned my attention to my friend. She seemed to have no doubts on the surface, but there was something about her eyes that gave a different impression.

We made it three-quarters of the way across no-man's land, courtesy of the fog. When the alarm horns rang out, assembling the Empire's soldiers, Nasuada began to shout.

"Now, Eragon! Tell Orrin to strike. To me, men of the Varden! Fight to win back your homes. Fight to guard your wives and children! Fight to overthrow Galbatorix! Attack and bathe your blades in the blood of our enemies! Charge!" With that, she spurred her horse forward and took off, the men bellowing and following after her, their weapons above their heads.

Orrin and his cavalry, with the Kull, galloped out of the east, pinning the soldiers against the Jiet River so that we could easily close the gap. As everyone joined the fray, I felt my energy begin to leave me to support Eragon, as his energy left him to help everyone he'd put wards around.

_Let's get some payback_.

_Let's,_ Briam agreed.

Together we leaped into action. It was easier to control the sword this time around, but harder to kill the enemy. I knew that most of these men didn't want to be here fighting against us, but the king had ordered it, so here they were. _The king_. _The father of my children._ Those two words formed together made me lose my mind for a second. A soldier that I didn't see coming swung at me, and I heard a roar of fury from Briam as he leaped to block the stroke from hitting me.

It didn't hit either of us though. I felt the energy drain away once again, and looked to Eragon, who gave a sheepish shrug and continued to battle with Saphira at his side. For once in my life, I was glad he hadn't listened to me when I told him not to do something. Briam and I owed him.

Time dragged by so slowly. Briam and I were at our breaking points, and I couldn't hold onto the magic anymore. With a sigh and a wary glance at my brother, I released the magic and let go of the weight that had been pulling on me throughout the battle. Nodding at Briam, we charged forward and continued to fight. I hadn't seen Nasuada or anyone else besides Eragon since the beginning of the battle, and I prayed that they were ok.

As if some god had heard my plea and sought to reassure me, Nasuada appeared before us. However, her condition was far from ok. She was covered in filth and gore, her shield was dented, and she blood streamed from a wound on her thigh.

"Eragon, I need you, both of you, to fight, to show yourselves and embolden the men...to frighten the soldiers." It took her so much energy just to gasp out that order. But she hadn't been talking to me.

"Let me heal you first," Eragon cried, as shocked as I by her appearance.

"No! I can wait, but we are lost unless you stem the tide of soldiers. We need...a Rider." She swayed in her saddle, and I turned quickly to Eragon.

"Go! She only ordered you to go. I can heal her."

Still looking hesitant, Eragon saluted her with Zar'roc, told her she had one, and took off. The dwarves and Kull went with him, and I turned all of my attentions to my friend.

"What did you do to yourself?"

She laughed harshly, then winced. I sucked in a breath and, by unspoken consent, Briam melded his mind with mine to help me with the spell. Such a simple spell shouldn't need more than one person. With a sigh, I realized that perhaps I shouldn't have gone to battle after all.

_No one would call you a coward if you removed yourself from the fighting._

_I would._

Briam blew out a breath irritably. Nasuada raised an eyebrow.

"What's got him upset?"

"He thinks that I should take myself out of the battle."

I hadn't even finished my sentence, and I could see that she was already agreeing with him.

"He's right. You're tired, and I think you should rest."

"But-"

"No. That's an order, Arianna. Get off the battlefield."

With that, Nasuada turned her horses head and pressed her heels into his flanks, galloping away to do some more damage to the enemy.

Briam's eyes danced, and he didn't attempt to look chastised when I glared at him.

_Come on little one. Off the battlefield is where we're headed._

As I clambered up on his back, a plan was already forming.

_No! _

_Oh c'mon Briam! She said off the battlefield. If we're in the air, we're _technically_ off the battlefield._

He lifted off, and to my delight soared over the battle. I was glad I'd decided to bring my bow along. As I strung the first arrow, I had no need to narrow my eyes to see my target, but I did anyway. The arrow whizzed away from me and hit its target straight and true. The soldier dropped, and already I had another arrow notched with an intended target.

Everything went well until arrows started flying back. When three pierced Briam's wings, we decided that landing sounded like a good idea. I didn't bother climbing down; I just hopped off and hurried over to look at the damage. It wasn't that bad. I broke the arrows and pulled them out, then healed them.

Standing around doing nothing bothered me to no end. When my strength recuperated, I itched to jump back into the action. Briam didn't agree. At least that's what he said. I could tell that he wanted to help out as much as I did.

For lack of nothing else to do, I opened my mind to Eragon and lent him some of my strength. While Eragon and Saphira prepared their seventh and final assault, a trumpet sounded from the east, and then King Orrin was shouting.

"The dwarves are here! The dwarves are here!"

"Yes!" I cried, along with all of the others who were helpless bystanders to the battle. I saw Eragon and Saphira fly up to look for themselves, then the commotion that the dwarves' appearance caused in the hearts of the men.

Another cry came out from the opposite direction. "A ship! A ship is coming up the Jiet River!"

I dashed up Briam's leg as he unfolded his wings. In this, at least, we agreed upon helping. He leaned left and turned, soaring through clouds. I couldn't see them, but I knew Eragon and Saphira were close. Saphira easily passed us as a gust of wind blew the smoke out of the way and brought the three-masted ship into view. Roran's face flashed in my mind, as did the other villagers', and I knew who was on that ship. My brother clearly didn't, as Saphira took the plunge towards the ship and he raised his sword over his head with the intent to kill.

**Wow.....it's been a while. I'm so sorry about that everyone. At the end of June I was faced with finals, and then right after school let out I went on vacation. The biggest problem was a boy, but now that that's over, I can put all my focus where it should've been in the first place. **


	44. Chapter 44: Complications

Briam dove after Saphira, and I struggled to contain myself.

"Eragon you idiot! It's Roran!"

My sharp eyes took in his appearance. He looked worn; haggard. He had a beard now, and his eyes were haunted. I could scarcely imagine what had done this to him, but I imagined that I'd find out soon enough.

Saphira pulled up to hang in front of the ship, and Briam hung back a few feet. I pitied everyone that was near us and could hear their giant wings flapping. That was the hardest thing to get used to in my opinion.

I watched carefully as Eragon took in Roran, and vice versa. There was a lot of unfinished business between them, I could tell.

Then Roran looked at me, and his eyes widened. Naturally he'd assume I'd be dead, since I'd been gone for months and I'd been taken by the Ra'zac.

I didn't bother listening to what was being said between the two of them. I heard Roran answer, "Aye," to whatever it was that Eragon must've said, but beyond that it was silent. Little more than a minute had passed when Saphira turned away, and Eragon mumbled quietly for me to come on.

My brother knew he was in for it later, there was no doubt about it. I didn't want to know what Roran might say to me. But there was no excuse in the world for my brother not to be able to ward off a sword that bounced off his stupid greaves.

"Eragon, pay attention!" I snapped angrily.

He ignored me, and then went to go fight with the dwarves. Mostly to get away from me, I was sure.

_Arianna, come help us with this._

Angela's voice echoed in my head, and I groaned. I didn't know where she was, and there wasn't any time to hover around in the air trying to find her. One of us might get shot if we did that.

_Arianna, we're by the tents. Come on!_

Without a word, Briam and I flew back to the tents.

"What are you up to Angela?"

"Oh, this and that. I just need you to lend me your voice for this spell that I'm casting. It requires two people to work correctly, and Solembum's being a brat, so could you just-"

Angela's words were cut off by the sound of a horn echoing from the rear of the Empire's army. We watched in silence and listened to the beat pick up as someone took up the drum, and then a large creature flew down from above. In horror, I realized what was happening. The sun shone through the clouds, and the red dragon and his rider could be seen. _Thank god_ was the only thought that came to mind as I saw that Murtagh was hidden behind all of his armor, and no one would recognize him. Thorn was still only a baby, but he was nearly the size of Saphira, and much bigger than Briam.

"I have to go," I forced out, urging Briam into flight as Murtagh lifted his hand and smote the dwarf king in the chest.

_No, no, no, this can't be happening! Briam, hurry!_

In response, Briam lifted his wings higher and put more energy into his flying. But it wasn't getting me to where I needed to be any quicker, and in my half-crazed state of mind I saw Saphira launch herself towards Thorn.

In my mind, I could hear Saphira roar furiously, _Traitor! Egg breaker, oath breaker, murderer!_

_But she's wrong Briam! They're all wrong!_

They were grappling now, and Briam and I were close enough to feel the vibrations in the air.

_What now?_ Briam questioned me. The dragons had already blown fire at each other, and when that didn't work, they flew higher up. I screamed when I saw Eragon hurtling through the air, and not a moment later Saphira was there to catch him.

_Help them!_ I cried. Thorn was pushing and prodding Saphira towards the ground, and he wouldn't give her any room to maneuver.

Briam darted forward and rammed into Thorn's side, knocking him off course slightly. We were already so close to the ground though that it didn't matter. Saphira landed on a plateau, and Eragon leaped off of her. Briam landed beside her, and Thorn ungracefully landed on the opposite side of the plateau. I saw now that Eragon had sliced open his leg, and a wave of pity washed over me. I carefully dismounted from Briam, and made my way quickly to Eragon, whose eyes never left Murtagh.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he answered stiffly.

What he was, was most definitely not fine. He was sore, tired, and full of revenge. If it came to blows here, there would be nothing I could do. Because I could not help my twin kill our older brother.

Eragon cursed as Murtagh healed Thorn's leg, and then they met in the center of the plateau. Thorn and Saphira circled behind them, while Briam and I stayed where we were. I'd seen my brothers fight plenty of times before, but never with the intent to kill. And Murtagh knew that it was Eragon! What game could he possibly be playing at?

At last, Eragon's strength waned, and he slipped and fell. He rolled back to his feet quickly and stabbed at Murtagh, who flicked his sword away easily enough. I watched with growing apprehension as Eragon's face changed, and he shouted, "I know you!" before lunging at Murtagh and tearing off his helm.

"Thrysta vindr," Murtagh said, grinning, as he sent Eragon flying twenty feet through the air to land on his back.

"Murtagh!" I screamed before rushing to Eragon. I felt useless, like a total cliché wimpy girl who couldn't take care of herself or anyone else, and it angered me.

Murtagh lowered his hand and pointed at Eragon. "You never would give up." Then he turned his gaze on me. "Well, obviously you didn't rat Thorn and me out. What was your great plan, Arianna? You must've known it would come to this."

"I didn't have one. I just kept hoping that it wouldn't happen." I answered testily, helping Eragon up out of the mud.

"You look like an elf now. Did Islanzadí do that to you?" Murtagh asked, directing the question at Eragon. When he didn't answer, Murtagh shrugged and smiled. "No matter. I'll learn the truth soon enough."

Murtagh stopped, frowned, and looked towards the east. Following his gaze, we saw the Twins reeking havoc on the Varden and the dwarves. I could tell from where we stood that they were having a grand old time doing it too. What they didn't see coming their way was Roran.

_Briam, what's he doing?_

Briam didn't say anything, just continued to watch what was going on. I saw Eragon open his mouth, most likely to cast a spell, when Murtagh said, "Wait. I want to see what he'll do."

"Why?" Eragon and I demanded at the same time. He was Murtagh's cousin too, and I was right about to throw that in his face when he replied, "The Twins enjoyed tormenting me when I was their captive."

A bleak smile was on his face, and I remembered quite well exactly what those bastards did for fun.

"You won't hurt him? You won't warn the Twins?"

"Upon my word as a Rider," he said in the ancient language.

So we watched in silence as Roran hid behind a mound of bodies. My whole body stiffened when the twins looked towards where he was hiding, but they didn't find him and turned away. Roran sprang up from his hiding place and bashed one Twin on the head with his hammer. The remaining Twin fell to the ground, convulsing, and emitted a wordless scream until Roran finished him off too. Then Roran lifted the hammer over his head and let out a loud victory. I wondered briefly if the same would happen to Eragon and I if one of us was killed.

"What now?" Eragon demanded. "Are you here to kill me?"

"Of course not. Galbatorix wants you alive. And you too, of course."

The last part was directed at me. I wanted to be so far away at that moment, but I wasn't going to leave either of them. The fact that they were my brothers was a big part of it. The fact that Murtagh was technically my enemy was the other. I also wished that I wasn't pregnant with a monster's children.

"What for?"

Before Murtagh could answer, I jumped into the conversation.

"Saphira."

Eragon still looked confused, and Murtagh rolled his eyes.

"Saphira is the only female dragon in existence. If she breeds, she will be the mother of her entire race."

Murtagh continued speaking, words I'd already heard straight from the bastard king himself. Then I heard Eragon asking Murtagh to join him and the Varden.

"You cannot help me, Eragon. No one but Galbatorix can release us from our oaths, and he will never do that.....He knows our true names, Eragon....We are his slaves forever."

"Then let us kill the two of you."

"What?!" I exclaimed, at the same time Murtagh said, "Kill us! Why should we allow that?"

I didn't want my brother to kill everyone, but I didn't want him to be killed either. I was just a nuisance in this whole situation, I was sure of it.

"It would free you from Galbatorix's control. And it would save the lives of hundreds, if not thousands, of people. Isn't that a noble enough cause to sacrifice yourself for?"

"Maybe for you, but life is still too sweet for me to part with it so easily. No stranger's life is more important than Thorn's or my own."

_This is going to go badly._

Even as he spoke the words in my head, Eragon lunched at Murtagh. From the way his sword was poised, it was almost as if he was intending to stab him.

"Letta!"

Eragon dropped to the ground and didn't move. Saphira let loose a jet of fire and sprang at Murtagh.

"Rïsa!" Saphira too was immobilized then.

"Murtagh, stop it!"

I made to move towards him, but Thorn snapped his giant jaws at me. Briam roared angrily and lunged, and if Murtagh hadn't been so preoccupied with keeping Eragon and Saphira at bay I'm sure he would've propelled him away. As it was, Briam and Thorn went about an inch backwards from the initial force, then Thorn regained his footing and threw Briam off. He was so little in comparison, he didn't stand a chance.

_Briam, come here! We're trying to not get ourselves killed._

_He snapped at you._ His emerald eyes were darker than usual, and glaring fiercely at the older male.

_I'd rather get snapped at than watch you hurt yourself trying to defend me. Now get over here!_

"Brakka du vanyalí sem huildar Saphira un eka!"

I could feel Eragon's frustration at not being able to free himself or Saphira, and even with Saphira's help they both remained stuck. After two minutes of trying he gave up, and his body sagged.

"Eragon!"

"Don't move, Anna."

I glared at Murtagh. He may be my brother, but that didn't give him any right to call me that. Only Eragon was allowed to do that. And Roran.

"You cannot hope to compete with me," he said to Eragon. "No one can, except for Galbatorix." He walked over to him and pointed his sword at Eragon's neck. I inhaled sharply, and Murtagh glanced at me before turning back to our brother.

"It would be so easy to take you back to Urû'baen."

"Oh, leave him alone Murtagh. Just leave us alone."

_You owe me._

_And you don't? I didn't tell anyone that you were alive or that Thorn was hatched. I lied to the elves and to Eragon. And I still haven't told him we're family. Please Murtagh, if you've any heart at all you'll let us be._

I saw a trail of blood on Eragon's neck, and I feared that all was lost. Then finally Murtagh spoke out loud.

"I was ordered to try and capture you, Arianna, and your dragons." There was a pause before he continued. "I have tried...Make sure we don't cross paths again. Galbatorix will have me swear additional oaths in the ancient language that will prevent me from showing you such mercy when next we meet." He lowered his sword.

"You're doing the right thing," Eragon said. Did he have to keep talking about it? Murtagh wasn't the type of person that you liked being told what was right and what was wrong. He already knew he was doing the right thing.

"Perhaps. But before I let you go...." Murtagh pried Zar'roc from Eragon's fisted hand and unbuckled its sheath from Beloth the Wise. "If I have become my father, then I will have my father's blade. Thorn is my dragon, and a thorn he shall be to all our enemies. It is only right, then, that I should also wield the sword _Misery_. Misery and Thorn, a fit match. Besides, Zar'roc should have gone to Morzan's eldest son, not his youngest. It is mine by right of birth."

"Murtagh-"

"Oh hush, sister. I've been dying to call you that all day."

He then proceeded to rub it in our brother's face.

"You're lying!"

To prove it to him, Murtagh repeated his words in the ancient language.

"And besides, just ask Arianna. She'll tell you."

I turned away stiffly. I would _not_ be telling my brother lies. Because we did not have the same father as Murtagh. But I was sworn to secrecy. And I certainly wouldn't tell him with Murtagh standing there.

I didn't hear what else Murtagh said to Eragon, but I turned back when I heard Eragon growl out a response, and saw that whatever he said had brought out strong reactions from both of them. I was afraid Murtagh was going to punch him.

"So be it. I take my inheritance from you, brother. Farewell."

I watched Murtagh fly away, and as he did so, I avoided Eragon's eyes. Turning to Briam, I sobbed the tears that I'd been too stubborn to cry earlier into his neck. I cried for Murtagh and Thorn, I cried because I couldn't tell Eragon the truth, and I cried because I would never be safe until the king was dead and the Empire was destroyed.

* * *

**Wow. I bet you all thought I'd died. Except Leah, who knew I was alive and well and made sure I knew that I should be disappointed in myself for not updating. :P Anyway, we're almost to the end of book two. This chappie was six pages long people. Six pages out of 114. A huge record for me. The longest I've ever written. And we've got to owe all that to good old Christopher Paolini, for giving me a storyline to follow. As you all should know, since this is , I do not own the characters, or the setting, or the lines that the characters say, because they're the author's. Hope you guys liked it! **


	45. Chapter 45: The Aftermath

Before Eragon could say anything, I was back on Briam's back and flying. I didn't feel like talking, and if he didn't like it he could deal. I waited a few minutes....waited...and then was finally satisfied that Eragon wasn't going to attempt to speak to me. Which was fine. Really, really fine.

_Oh give it up already. You want to talk to someone, and it may as well be the only other person that was with you that this affects. _

_Don't tell me it didn't bother you that Thorn and Saphira were fighting._

Suddenly he blocked his mind from me, and the only thing I could feel was a sudden strong emotion: hate. For some reason the logical part of my brain didn't agree with my impulsive part of my brain on why he was angry. I naturally assumed that he agreed with me, but if he did then why wasn't he telling me about it? I shrugged it off, and since his mind was still blocked I spoke aloud.

"Let's go see Nasuada."

Wordlessly, Briam turned and headed towards the Varden encampment. He landed as gracefully as a dragon could in a fairly enclosed space, and I kept my gaze straight ahead. The problem with keeping your gaze focused though is that sometimes you miss things. Like my brother walking straight into my path.

We collided, and of course I was the one to start falling backwards. A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me back before I could hurt myself. With a shock, I realized it was Roran. His eyes, I noticed, weren't staring at my face. They were wide, and they were directed at my stomach. As tired as I was, I wasn't going to let the opportunity to punch him in the arm pass me by.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"For not giving your cousin a proper greeting."

He rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. I thought I picked out, "Saved you from falling on your butt," only with the less kind version of the word.

"Where were you going in such a hurry anyway?" Eragon asked.

"To see Nasuada. Where else would I be going?"

He shrugged, and with Briam and Saphira in tow, we continued on our way until we came to Nasuada's tent. With Saphira being so pushy, there was no room for Briam to get his head in anywhere, and I heard him huff out an annoyed breath. I laughed quietly and grinned. Arya's head snapped up from her discussion with Nasuada, and her eyes scrutinized us. Meanwhile, Nasuada rushed forward to embrace my brother.

"Where were you? We thought you were dead, or worse."

"Not quite." I could sense Eragon's mixed feelings. Having just been told the lie about who is father was, I imagined he was still feeling pretty sour about it. And his relationship to Murtagh.

"And Arianna!" I was next on the hugging list. "How are you? Sit, sit. You shouldn't have fought today."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm not _that_ pregnant. We're all alive and breathing still. Nothing to worry about."

_Not like anyone would really be upset anyway if the monster's children died_, a voice in my mind said. Sharing my mind with Briam and Vanilor was irritating enough, without adding random voices of my own to the mix.

During the time that I was lost inside my own head, more words had been exchanged. Eragon was bringing Roran into view, and blabbing about introducing his cousin Roran. Roran was a totally different person than the cousin I'd left behind in Carvahall. Like a stranger almost.

"It is an honor to meet Eragon's cousin," Nasuada commented.

"Indeed," Arya added.

I listened intently as Eragon explained how the whole village of Carvahall was on the _Dragon Wing_, and what Roran had done. From that narrative I concluded that Eragon hadn't gotten any detailed information from him, and that I'd have to do it later. Men were so lousy at getting to the important part of things. There was a reason women were the ones with all the knowledge. We talked. Men talked, but it was barely the same language.

After all of that, Eragon went into a detailed narrative of things we already knew – for our cousin's benefit, no doubt – and finally got to today's battle. He talked about fighting the Rider and his dragon, and about the Rider's special abilities. I tried to tune him out, but with little success. I was just as intrigued as the other three people in the room, and I'd been there.

"As soon as he spun his sword around, I realized we _had_ dueled before, so I threw myself at him and tore off his helm."

"It was Murtagh, wasn't it?" The question came quietly from Nasuada, and Eragon looked incredulous, asking the ever repeated question of "How..." and then trailing off into silence. You would've thought that having me for a sister would have taught him that when he told a story, he left little to the imagination, but he didn't. He was just that thick headed.

"If the Twins survived, and Arianna survived, it only made sense that Murtagh had as well."

Arya threw me a glance, and I ignored it.

_The Queen's going to be furious when she hears about this._

_I could really care less Briam. I wasn't going to rat him out._

It was at that moment that I saw Eragon take a deep breath, and I cringed. I couldn't help myself. Arya's sharp eyes must've noticed it, but she said nothing, returning her scrutiny to my brother.

Then the "secret" was out. Or the lie, depending on your point of view.

"It can't be."

Nasuada was absolutely right. It couldn't be. And yet, as of today, it was falsely true. If my father were still alive, he'd be able to take all this terrible weight off of everyone's minds by telling them. Oromis and Glaedr could tell him. Glancing at Saphira, I didn't believe that she believed what was being said either, which was strange. I didn't think much beyond that thought, which was typical for me.

"Could Murtagh have been lying?" This from Arya.

"He repeated the same thing in the ancient language," I stated numbly, both to stress the fact that Eragon hadn't been hearing things and that I was horrified by it too.

It was decided that no one would find out about this terrible secret. They then discussed boring politics; mostly how our brother would affect their campaign strategy.

I was nearly asleep when I heard the words, "Enough. We cannot decide this when we are bloody and tired and our minds are clouded from fighting. Go, rest, and we shall take this up again tomorrow."

I for one was not going to appreciate taking this up again tomorrow. Maybe I'd ask Eragon to fill me in on what happened and skip altogether.

_You're a Dragon Rider too, Arianna. You have as much weight as he does._

_But no more. I'm carrying Galbatorix's children, to the horror of just about everyone who carries authority. No, they will not wish to hear what I have to say. So I don't wish to hear their ridiculous theories either._

"Do not allow this to trouble you overmuch, Eragon-elda. You are not your father, nor your brother. Their shame is not yours."

For someone who claimed not to care for my brother, she sure did have a lot to say in terms of making him feel better.

She met my gaze, and her alien mind touched mine.

_Nor you, Arianna._

I inclined my head slightly to let her know that I'd heard her, but that was the extent of my gratitude. I missed listening to Nasuada's departure speech to Eragon, and more irritation towards Arya flared up.

Outside, Eragon took a small moment of silence before turning towards Roran.

"So now you know."

"Blood always tells," Roran replied, shrugging carelessly.

"Don't ever say that!" We growled unanimously. Then Eragon repeated it once more for good measure.

As they continued talking, I felt a large mass of people approaching. Realizing it was the villagers, I made to scramble away to safety, like my tent, but was restrained by my ever annoying brother.

"Horst!" he exclaimed when they rounded the tent, exposing themselves to the dangerous giant dragon that was named Saphira. The words made me laugh quietly to myself. As if Saphira would ever hurt anyone who didn't deserve it.

"It's good to see you again!" he continued on, giving the smith a bear hug.

After the initial gaping, Horst beamed up at Eragon.

"Blast if it isn't good to see you as well, Eragon. You've filled out since you left."

"You mean since I ran away."

Horst ignored that, and then turned to me.

"You had us worried missy," he told me sternly. "Elaine will just be relieved to know you're safe." As he uttered the words, he pulled me into a hug and rocked me back and forth. He seemed awfully emotional, and from my head's perch on his shoulder I could see Horst's oldest son looking at me with concern. Albriech had always been like an older brother to me, but somewhere along our teenage years we'd found it awkward to be around one another. He was huge and hulking like his father, but he had his mother's honey-blonde hair. He was definitely a sight to behold.

Once Horst released me, I tried not to stare as he sniffled and wiped at his eye. Before I could bat an eyelash, I was being pulled to Eragon's side.

"Arianna, this is Jeod. Jeod, this is my twin sister, Arianna."

A strange gleam came into his eye upon taking in my appearance, and I hoped desperately that he couldn't see Brom's features in me. Everyone always told me I looked like our mother, but then they didn't have a father to compare me to. But if he hadn't figured out the resemblance between Eragon and Brom, and they'd stayed in his house together, than I highly doubted that he was going to figure out the relation by looking at me.

"It's an honor to meet the sister of Eragon, and the highly praised student of Brom. Not to mention another Dragon Rider."

So that's what the look had been for. That was a huge relief.

"Likewise. An old friend of Brom's, and a highly thought of scholar as well. It is I who should be honored."

He grinned like a little boy at Christmas, and then let himself be brought back into conversation with my brother. I returned my attentions to Roran.

"I'm going back to my tent. As soon as you're done here, and done talking with Eragon, I want you to come see me. Alright?"

He nodded, returning to his previous conversation. Briam sniffed and followed me.

_What's the matter with _you_?_ I asked him.

_I don't like the way that boy looks at you._

_Albriech?_

_Yes._

I snorted, _He's nothing to worry about Briam. Just a friend._

_You keep telling yourself that._

I glared at him, then turned and stalked off. Like Saphira, he too was much too big to fit inside the tent. So he settled down outside near the entrance and put his snout by the door. Despite my attempts not to, I couldn't help but drift off into my "sleep" state...

* * *

I was woken up by a slight shaking of my shoulder, and my eyes opened slowly. Roran was standing over me, looking both utterly spent and determined.

"Did Eragon show you Katrina?"

It was hard not to dream of her in my resting state, what with their thoughts being entirely focused on her and whatnot.

"Yes."

"Good."

The conversation was really quite awkward, and all I really wanted to do was drift back to nothing again.

"So...you're pregnant."

I laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh.

"Yes. Have you heard who the father is?"

I saw his eyes tighten, and he sat down so fast that I thought I might get squished.

"That bastard!" he growled.

"What? Eragon told you! That little br-"

"No, but I've got a brain Anna. Can't Eragon like...get it out of you or something?"

"I don't want them out."

I knew Roran wished he had a wall to punch. As it was, the whole tent would fall down if he punched it. So instead, he balled up his fists and ground his teeth together.

"Them?"

"Yes. Twins. A boy and a girl."

"Have you lost your mind?"

I shook my head wearily. "I don't think so, brother. I don't think so."

Grasping his hand, I smiled weakly at him. If only there was some way to make him understand. To make everyone understand why I wasn't going to give them up. Now they all thought that they were going to be doubly evil, what with Morzan supposedly being the grandfather, and Galbatorix the father. How sick would that be? But me being me, I was looking on the bright side of things. These children would have Galbatorix in them, yes, but they would also have me, Brom, and Selena within their blood as well. And I firmly believed that the good would always prevail over the evil.

Forcing a smile, Roran squeezed my hand before leaning down to plant a kiss on my forehead.

"Sleep, cousin."

Darkness settled in my mind, and I didn't bother correcting him. There would be plenty of time for that later.

* * *

**So, we've finally hit the end of book two. Woo hoo! I feel accomplished, especially since I spent you know, like the whole afternoon ignoring my nice pile of homework to write this, and I coughed the whole time. Oh well. Being sick sucks, but at least I've got this. :)  
So anyway, hope you liked it. Don't freak out if it takes me a while to figure out where I'm going with this. I haven't read the third book in a whole year. So...that should be my next side project. I should at least skim it. And, to relieve some of you who might be worried about Arianna, don't worry. She will not being tagging along to help free Katrina.**


	46. Chapter 46: Farewell

"_If I die, you will see to Katrina?" _

_I recognized Roran's voice in my dream, and then all at once images assaulted me. Roran was kneeling across from Eragon on the ground somewhere that seemed familiar, and Saphira was nearby._

"_I shall."_

_Eragon's reply was both determined and weary. _

_"Tell her then that I went into battle with joy in my heart and her name upon my lips."_

_But where _were_ they? _

_"I shall," Eragon uttered again._

_He then muttered something in the ancient language that I didn't quite catch, and said to Roran, "There. That will filter the air in front of us and protect us from the paralyzing effects of the Ra'zac's breath."_

I shot straight up from my bedding, my eyes wide. _The Ra'zac! Those fools!_

Dragging a silly dress over my head, I pushed my way out of the tent and located Eragon with my mind. He was right where I expected him to be, in Nasuada's tent. Cursing silently, I sprinted quickly to it and squeezed past Saphira to get inside. One of her large sapphire eyes turned on me, but I ignored it for the moment.

"Have you lost your mind, Eragon?" Nasuada was saying as I entered. "This is a harebrained scheme that will have catastrophic consequences for everyone in Alagaesia if it goes awry!"

"But-"

"Nasuada is right, Eragon. It's too dangerous to risk it. If we lose you, then everything we've done up to this point will have been for nothing." Arya added.

I snorted, and three pairs of eyes were on me quicker than I could bat an eyelash.

"What opinion have you on this matter, Arianna?"

While Nasuada was the closest thing to a friend I had, she and I both knew that our roles in the Varden came first.

"For the first time in my life, I think Arya and I actually have something to agree on."

"Well you've already seen us go, so why-"

"Stay out of my head!" I growled, glaring at him.

He rolled his eyes at me before turning back to Nasuada.

"Please, you must grant me passage to go. I have to help Roran rescue Katrina."

I tried not to allow talk of Katrina get to me, but the flood of memories of us as children was impossible to ignore.

"As noble a cause as that may be, I simply can't allow you to-"

Nasuada was interrupted by Saphira's roar, which shook the tent and silence everyone within hearing range.

_I am sore and tired, and Eragon is doing a poor job of explaining himself. We have better things to do than stand around yammering like jackdaws, no?...Good, now listen to me._

And so we listened as Saphira explained all her reasons as to why we should let Eragon go with Roran to rescue Katrina. And despite myself, I had to admit that they were good reasons. The one that no one could argue with was when she mentioned how the Empire could use Katrina to get to Roran, and through him Eragon.

_Besides, if something happens while we're away, Arianna will be here to help._

"What?!" I turned on her, indignant. "And why should I have to be left behind?"

_You need to rest, and at least one of you should stay here. Plus. I don't believe Nasuada can afford to risk having you get captured._

Nasuada put a hand to her temple and sighed.

"She's right Arianna. Especially about the last part."

"But I don't want to sit around here and do nothing but worry."

Eragon placed a hand on my shoulder.

"You'll be fine sis."

Glaring at Saphira, I shrugged his hand off and stalked away to find Roran. When I did, I went into a long rant about exactly how much of a pain he was, why I'd like to give him a good punch, and a whole slew of other things.

"And wipe that grin off your face before I do it myself!" I added testily.

"Oh Anna, I've missed your sense of humor."

The twinkle in his eyes left, and he looked me over the way a parent inspects their child for injury.

"What's got you so worked up anyway?"

"You and Eragon. Do you have any idea how much of a bad idea rescuing Katrina is? The Ra'zac are dangerous enough, without adding their parents into the mix. And when were you going to tell me? Huh? After you'd packed all your stuff and loaded it onto Saphira?"

I felt a tear in the corner of my eye that threatened to fall, and I wiped it away angrily.

"Don't you want Katrina to be safe?"

"Well of course I do, but-"

"But what? Either you do or you don't. There's no middle ground here. And it's better to fight the Ra'zac than Galbatorix."

While that may have been true, it didn't mean I liked the idea any more than I had before.

Something of what I said must've dawned on Roran, because his face became slack, and then brightened.

"You mean we're going? They're going to let us go!"

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't die or anything."

Not in the mood to deal with him, I left and went back to my tent. Briam, sensing my foul mood, thought it best not to comment.

* * *

The next morning, I woke up early and, accompanied by Briam, walked to the spot where I knew they'd be leaving from. They'd just finished putting the last of their bags on Saphira's back, and all they needed to do was clamber up her back and take off. They became quiet when they saw me, looked at each other, and then looked at me.

_Typical men_. The thought was absolutely true though. Neither one of them had a clue how to handle me anymore.

Eragon was the braver of the two, and the first to approach. I blew the hair out of my eyes and glared at him.

"Don't be so angry Anna," he chided. "We'll be back soon."

Pulling me into a bear hug, I realized that I couldn't stay angry at him, and it showed on my face when he stepped back.

"Ha! I knew you couldn't stay mad at me long."

"Consider yourself lucky," I scoffed, then grinned. Family was annoying simply because I'd never been able to keep a grudge held against a member of it. And they knew it.

Roran, seeing that my mood had improved, came over quickly to give me my goodbye hug.

"Stay safe," I told them as they seated themselves on Saphira's back.

They just rolled their eyes and waved. Saphira placed her snout on my forehead gently, snorted, and then almost knocked me over when she started propelling her wings. Briam stood behind me to keep that from happening, and we watched in silence as they climbed higher and higher in the sky.

_Do you think they'll come home safely?_

_What does your heart tell you?_

Placing a hand on Briam's neck, I smiled. Of course they'd come home safely. Because if they didn't, I'd kill them myself.


	47. Chapter 47: Battle of Stupidity

Utterly bored, I blew a stray strand of dark hair out of my face and sighed. In Eragon's absence, I'd been asked to take up his sessions with the people, during which they loaded their problems onto me and I tried to help them. I was nowhere near as good with these people as my brother, but I tried nonetheless.

_Isn't there a pitiful bone in there somewhere?_

Briam acted as if I was heartless.

_Of course there is. I pity Eragon for having to do this all the time._

That wasn't necessarily true, and we both knew it. But still, listening to everyone whine hadn't been at the top of my to do list. In fact, I'd had 'lying around doing nothing' at the top. If I couldn't go make myself useful by helping Eragon and Roran, I may as well do nothing. But of course Nasuada simply wouldn't have it, and so this was what I'd gotten to do instead.

At long last, I was free. Before I'd even had a chance to decide what I was going to do with myself, I got a fleeting premonition of myself, Jörmundur, King Orrin, and three others standing in Nasuada's tent.

"Perfect," I muttered angrily to myself.

Every time I got time to myself, it seemed something came up to snatch it away. I wished Eragon was here. He was the Varden's stupid poster boy, not me. Whatever this meeting was for, I'm sure he was better suited for it then me. In fact, I imagined that I wouldn't be saying much of anything anyway.

If I'd stopped and thought about it very much though, I would've realized that Arya had not been one of those three other people. _A king, a military commander, and a sorceress_. Angela hadn't been present either.

_Maybe they were out of your line of sight._

Briam's suggestion, while slightly pacifying, didn't seem the right answer. Something was happening, that much was certain. With a sigh, I once again made for the large tent that I seemed to be spending so much time in lately. I spent more time there than I did in my own tent.

I was picked up on the way by the Jarsha and the rest of the party on their way to see Nasuada, and the boy beamed at me. Apparently I was the only person he didn't have to scour the Varden to find. I fell in place beside Jörmundur, Briam following, and struck up a conversation.

"What are we being summoned for?"

He shook his head at me. "I've no idea. We'll find out soon enough. Any word from your brother?"

"No."

"It was foolish of him to go," he muttered.

Finally, someone who agreed with me.

_I agreed with you_.

I snorted, _No you didn't. You hung onto every word that Saphira uttered. If she'd been giving a speech about how it was a good idea to go jump off a cliff, you would've gone and found yourself one and jumped_.

_Unlike humans, I _could_ jump off a cliff and have no trouble surviving_.

He poked me with a wing, and I rolled my eyes. I watched with a small smile as the boy Jarsha rushed ahead of us suddenly to relay our arrival to Nasuada. Now she had guards at her entrance, courtesy of Jörmundur.

"King Orrin of Surda, Jörmundur of the Varden, Arianna, Trianna of Du Vrangr Gata, and Naako and Ramusewa of the Inapashunna tribe," we heard him announce. I smiled at the lack of an association, and thought up all sorts of fun ones to add in. "Arianna of Galbatorix's dungeons" or "Arianna of Du Gata Vrangr" (as it should rightfully be called) were two of them.

My sharp eyes caught sight of Jarsha as he left the tent. They were wide, and something about his face made me think of a mischievous boy caught in the act of doing something he shouldn't have been doing. Curious, I followed the rest inside. Briam poked his head in the tent after me, and took in Nasuada at the same time I did. Our thoughts were nearly identical. The only thing that kept her from being naked was her white chemise. I saw that her maid, Farica, was cradling the dress she'd obviously been wearing much the way one holds a child.

Across from Nasuada were five men, their skin as dark as hers. The one was definitely of higher status, and wore a ridiculous looking thing on his head. It was huge. Why anyone would need something like that was beyond my comprehension.

_No, it's just more thinking than you'd care to do_.

Ignoring my oh so clever dragon, I directed my gaze towards Orrin, who was speaking to the man with the large unnecessary head thing.

"Ah, Warlord, this _is_ unexpected. I trust you and-"

He cut himself off and stared at Nasuada. "Why, Nasuada, what is the meaning of this?"

"I should like to know that as well." The way Jörmundur spoke, it was like listening to Horst. They both rumbled when they spoke.

He gripped the hilt of his sword and glowered at anyone who dared stare at her too openly. I merely lifted an eyebrow and waited for my friend to speak.

"I have summoned you here to witness the Trial of the Long Knives between Fadawar and myself and to afterward speak the truth of the outcome to everyone who asks."

I wasn't sure what the Trial of the Long Knives was, but judging from the sudden outbursts from four of the five people around me – Trianna for once in her life was silent – I assumed it was a big deal. Jörmundur swearing always signaled a big deal anyway.

"Have you taken leave of your senses, my Lady? This is madness. You cannot-"

"I can, and I will."

"My Lady, if you do, I-"

"Your concern is noted, but my decision is final. And I forbid anyone from interfering."

Why would anyone feel the need to interfere? And then some things that had hit me separately came at me again, only together. Nasuada taking her dress off, knives, and interfering. I didn't like where this was heading.

"But, Nasuada, this Trial, is not it where-"

"It is."

"Blast it, then; why don't you give up this mad venture? You would have to be addled to carry it out."

"I have already given my word to Fadawar."

Nasuada was doing a lot of cutting off here.

"How bad is it?" I whispered to Jörmundur.

"Extremely," he muttered stiffly.

_She would be considered an honorless oath-breaker if she retracted her promise_.

_How do you know that?_

_I'm just guessing. Can't you pick up everyone's mood in the room?_

I could, but I'd been hoping that it was just faulty reading on my part.

"To what end? That is, if you should lose-"

"If I should lose, the Varden shall no longer answer to me, but to Fadawar."

I couldn't keep my tongue still after that.

"What?! But Nasuada, that's insane!"

She gazed at me coolly, but said nothing.

"The Varden would lose my support," I muttered.

Briam huffed in annoyance, but otherwise made no annoying comments on my statement.

"I do not appreciate your choice to endanger our entire cause." Orrin said angrily. He then appealed to Fadawar. "Will you not be reasonable and release Nasuada from her obligation? I will reward you richly if you agree to abandon this ill-conceived ambition of yours."

"I am rich already. I have no need for your tin-tainted gold. No, nothing but the Trial of the Long Knives can compensate me for the slander Nasuada has aimed at my people now."

"You-"

"Be silent!" Jörmundur hissed.

I glared at him, but that meant little to him.

"Bear witness now," Nasuada said.

Though he clenched the folds of his robes tightly, Orrin bowed.

"Aye, I will bear witness."

I watched, interested despite myself, as the four other men squatted and placed small drum between their knees, striking up a furious beat. Without missing a note, one of them reached inside his vest and drew two long, curved knives that he tossed toward the peak of the tent. Nasuada and Fadawar both caught theirs successfully. Then he pushed his sleeve up past his elbow. Nasuada's eyes were fixed on his arm. I had no idea what she was looking at or looking for, but whatever it was she must've found. Then it began.

The went back and forth, one slice at a time, beginning right underneath the crease in the elbow and going down from there. When Fadawar cut himself a sixth time, he howled and cried, "Best that, you feckless witch!" and dropped to one knee. Nasuada, I was proud to see, did indeed best that and remained upright. It was as Nasuada switched hands like Fadawar that Orrin decided to play ref and jumped in the middle.

"Stop! I won't allow this to continue. You're going to kill yourselves."

Nasuada warded him off with a wave of her sword and growled, "Don't meddle."

I watched with my breath caught in my throat as she continued on. When she cut herself a seventh time, she uttered a wordless cry that had me moving towards her instinctively. Jörmundur held me back. I noticed that it was getting harder for Mr. Big shot to cut himself, and Nasuada noticed it too. When she imitated his eighth cut, she cut herself a ninth time, much to our horror, and whispered, "Best _that_."

He made a valiant attempt to. But it ended in, "I submit," for him. The drums stopped, and everyone started talking at once. I went to her as she found her chair and fell on it. Looking her over, I couldn't help but grin.

"You, my Lady, are what I like to call stupid."

A tired smile lit her face, and I could only imagine what she would've responded with if she hadn't been drained of blood.

* * *

**Honestly I'd forgotten that this even happened. This is why reading things again after you've already read it is good people. Right now I've got a headache, probably still have a fever, and a cough. I've missed four days of school, and haven't done any homework. So.........I should probably make myself scarce and do my homework this weekend. But I know me, and I know that things rarely happen the way I plan for them to happen. So, I would look for another chapter soon. Unless I can ignore the urge to write, which is tough. **


	48. Chapter 48: Missing

Having asked Jörmundur to send for me if there were any problems with Nasuada, Briam and I went back to my tent. I hated the tribes and their stupid customs. Slashing yourselves with knives to see who could withstand the most pain was stupid. I especially hated Fadawar for making Nasuada participate in it. I'd had my suspicions, which Nasuada briefly confirmed, that he'd forced her hand one way or the other. Stupid power hungry son of a-

_Do you mind?_ Briam's sudden intrusion on my thoughts caused me to roll my eyes.

_No, but evidently you do._

He rested his head on his front legs and stared at me with one emerald eye. I didn't need to hear his thoughts to know just what he thought about that.

Suddenly feeling restless, I stood and moved past him in the doorway of the tent. Sighing, he heaved himself up and accompanied me. Since childhood, walks had been one of the few things that put my mind at ease. Brom had been the most effective for obvious reasons.

Thinking of Brom brought up endless memories and questions, and brought my thoughts around to Eragon and Murtagh. It was for the best that Galbatorix and Murtagh believed us to be the children of Morzan. They'd look for similarities in us that weren't there – look for a link between his true name and ours. Brom would be too easy. I doubted very much that Brom's true name had ever been known to anyone except an elf, but even knowing the relation would cause them to have an advantage.

I wondered briefly if the king had been looking for similarities between Selena and I during the time I'd spent in Urû'baen. The only thing I believed I had in common with my mother was my appearance. My personality was definitely courtesy of Brom.

I was suddenly pulled from my thoughts by the sudden commotion that was going on around me, and Briam nudged my arm.

_Look,_ he said. I followed his gaze and upon seeing a glittery cloud of blue, I let out a whoop and hurried as fast as I could to get to the large clearing where Saphira took off and landed in. As I arrived at the clearing, I saw that Nasuada was already there, and many others of importance were heading our way as well. I went to stand by my friend, and sent my conscience out towards Eragon. I felt Saphira, Roran, and Katrina, but Eragon was nowhere to be found.

If Saphira hadn't been circling to land, I'd have made Briam fly me up there to check, and then bombard them all with questions as to why my idiot brother wasn't there. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the child Elva speaking to Nasuada, and the look of alarm that spread across her face as the words registered. So it wasn't just me that couldn't sense him.

A pang in my chest caused Briam to settle beside me and place his snout on my shoulder. I paid little attention to what was going on around me, but at Arya's words of, "Saphira would not be so calm if Eragon was hurt or dead," my temper exploded.

"If Eragon was hurt, Saphira wouldn't have come back, and if Eragon was dead, I would know."

My outburst was ignored – if you didn't count all the sympathetic glances that were thrown at me by the three women – and Nasuada retorted with, "Where is he then? What trouble has he gotten himself into now?"

Jörmundur and his captains got everyone who wasn't allowed to be here to witness the Riderless dragon's return out of the clearing, and Garzhvog, King Orrin, and Narheim (the dwarf who had taken Orik's place) approached.

"What means this, Lady Nightstalker?" followed by, "Yes, I'd bloody well like an explanation myself," were the greetings Nasuada received from the Urgal and the King.

"And I," she threw in. After all, she didn't know much more than they did. Other than the fact that Eragon wasn't there.

"She shall provide the answers you desire," Nasuada told them, pointing at Saphira.

My first instinct was to rush at Saphira as she landed, but that would be a mistake. I'd likely get crushed or cause Saphira to hurt herself and her passengers trying to avoid me.

She landed without incident, and Roran and Katrina quickly unbuckled themselves from the saddle and jumped down.

Taking in Katrina's appearance, I flinched. She was too pale, and her dress was torn and filthy. Ignoring all forms of formality, I cried out, rushed towards them and embraced them. I let Roran go quickly enough, but kept Katrina's hands and looked her over from a closer distance. No wounds to speak of, just lots of grime.

"Arianna?" she questioned.

I'd forgotten all about my changed appearance, and it caused me to laugh outright.

"Of course it's me. I've changed a bit, but I swear to you on the inside it's still me."

As I spoke of what was inside me, I noticed her gaze was on my stomach. She met my eyes, and I shrugged, whispering, "I'll tell you later," while moving out of the way. The others were converged around us and curious, and I did not want to get in their way.

Roran bowed to Nasuada and then King Orrin. "My Lady, Your Majesty. If I may, this is my betrothed, Katrina." His face was grave, voice firm. Katrina curtsied to them both.

"Welcome to the Varden, Katrina. We have all heard your name here, on account of Roran's uncommon devotion. Songs of his love for you have already spread across the land."

I thought I detected a little jealously emitting from Nasuada as she spoke, but I may have been imagining things.

"You are most welcome," Orrin added. "Most welcome indeed."

Katrina blushed and smiled. "Thank you," she said.

I had my cousin back, and my best friend. Now I just needed my brother.

"Where is he?" Nasuada demanded of Saphira.

Saphira crept forward and lowered her head so it was level with Nasuada, Arya, and Angela.

With my mind open to Saphira, I heard her ask Nasuada who had hurt her, and to name them so she could go destroy them.

"There's no need to tear anyone apart. Not yet, at least. I wielded the knife myself. However, this is the wrong time to delve into the matter. Right now, all I care about is Eragon's whereabouts."

_Eragon has decided to remain in the Empire_.

Any happiness that had been on my face at seeing Roran and Katrina return dissipated quickly, only to be replaced with incredulity and fear. I shot a glance at Roran, who stared straight ahead and pretended not to notice.

"How...how could you allow him to stay?" Nasuada asked.

Saphira snorted, and small tongues of fire could be seen as she did so.

_Eragon has made his own choice. I could not stop him. He insists upon doing what he thinks is right, no matter the consequences for him or the rest of Alagaësia...I could shake him like a hatchling, but I'm proud of him. Fear not; he can take care of himself. So far, no misfortune has befallen him. I would know if he was hurt._

I didn't believe for a second that Saphira actually thought my brother could take care of himself. He spent all his time getting into trouble for that.

"And why did he make this choice, Saphira?" This from Arya, who, for someone who claimed not to care about my brother spent way too much of her time inquiring about his welfare and why he did things and pissing me off in the process.

_It would be faster for me to show you rather than explain with words. May I?_

Of course everyone agreed. Saphira's memories swarmed into my mind, and I saw everything they'd done. And after everything had gone right, exactly the way they'd wanted with the exception of one Ra'zac, Eragon forced Saphira to leave. I noticed Nasuada drying her eyes on her bandages, and couldn't keep a tear from detaching itself and rolling down my cheek. You couldn't say Saphira didn't try to stop him. But I knew that Saphira knew the real reason he had for staying, and I was going to make her tell me later on. My brother was an idiot, but even he wouldn't risk everything for a single Ra'zac and exploring.

"Blast it!" King Orrin exclaimed. "Eragon could not have picked a worse time to set off on his own. What matters a single Ra'zac when Galbatorix's entire army resides but a few miles from us? ...We have to get him back."

Angela laughed. "How? He'll be travelling during the day, and Saphira daren't fly around searching for him when the sun's up and anyone might spot her and alert Galbatorix."

"Yes, but he's our Rider. We cannot sit by idly while he remains in the midst of our enemies."

_He's our Rider._ The words echoed in my head dumbly for a minute while I stewed over them. I was a Rider, but I was useless to them. And also a danger to them. If Galbatorix got his hands on me, they'd be doomed at multiple angles. Eragon would be all distraught, and Galbatorix would get control of his unborn heirs. And another Rider to boot.

Briam nudged me, and I tried to focus on what was going on around me.

"I agree," Narheim was saying. "However it is done, we must ensure his safe return. Grimsnzborith Hrothgar adopted Eragon into his family and clan – that is mine own clan, as you know – and we owe him the loyalty of our law and our blood."

As I watched Arya kneel to fiddle with her laces, I grew more irritated with her. She always had to meddle!

"Saphira, where exactly was Eragon when you last touched his mind?"

_In the entrance to Helgrind._

"And have you any idea what path he intended to follow?"

_He did not yet know himself._

"Then I shall have to look everywhere I can." She said as she sprang to her feet, and then promptly bounded forward across the clearing and into the tents in a northward direction.

"Arya, no!" Nasuada shouted, but it was useless. Arya was already gone. My irritation was still present though.

Then Garzhvog was gasping at his armor and speaking. "Do you want me to follow, Lady Nightstalker? I cannot run as fast as little elves, but I can run as long."

"No...no stay. Arya can pass for human at a distance, but soldiers would hunt you down the moment some farmer caught sight of you."

"I am used to being hunted."

"But not in the middle of the Empire, with hundreds of Galbatorix's men wandering the countryside. No, Arya will have to fend for herself. I pray that she can find Eragon and keep him safe, for without him, we are doomed."

Nasuada approached me, and my shoulders slumped.

"I hate her," I muttered angrily.

"Only because you can't go get him yourself," she said, putting a hand on my shoulder. I resisted the urge to shrug it off.

I looked at Saphira, and wordlessly we shared in the sorrow of Eragon's absence. My brother was reckless, thick-headed, and often times plain stupid, but my life wouldn't exist without him.


End file.
